


The Light in my Darkness

by invisame



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, F/M, Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2020-02-07 13:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 46,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18621874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisame/pseuds/invisame
Summary: Clint Barton doesn’t go on dates. He makes arrangements. Everything is clearly stipulated from the beginning so there are no surprises, no messy emotions and no heartbreak. Just sign on the dotted line and he’ll provide everything you need.A business major with an artist’s soul, you switch schools. When you do, your family cuts you off completely. You’re used to taking care of yourself but it still hurts. With your future in question, you put your head down and work your ass off to make your dreams come true. Unfortunately, they seem to stay frustratingly out of reach.Until your best friend’s dad comes to you with a proposition. Be his beck and call girl, his date for the myriad social functions he must attend and he’ll pay for everything. School, books, art supplies, and even an apartment of your very own. In return he wants your companionship, your faithfulness and your discretion.You should feel cheap but how can you when he treats you like a queen?





	1. Chapter 1

You hurried into the Red Eye Café, slipping off your jacket as you came through the door. “Sorry, I’m late.”

Curtis was in his usual spot behind the counter, looking more linebacker than diner owner. He looked up at your announcement before waving you off as if it wasn’t important. And to him it wasn’t. He and his wife Maria had opened the little diner when they were in their mid-20s. Now, they were in their fifties and had three grown boys and twice the space.

They treated you like family and that meant they weren’t overly put out if you were a couple of minutes, or even a couple of hours, late. You cared more than they did, truth be told. Curtis finished topping off someone’s coffee and glanced at you as he put the pot back. “Everything all right?”

You nodded as you tied on an apron. “The mailman came right as I was leaving. I stayed until he finished.” You held up the large envelope clutched tightly in your hand. “They’re here. All of them.”

“Maria, she got the letters,” Curtis called through the window to his wife. You saw her wipe her hands off on a towel before she came out of the kitchen.

“Well, let’s see what you got, baby. Don’t keep us in suspense,” she ordered as she came to stand beside her husband. You grinned as you dumped out the envelope of mail from your father’s house. His butler collected it all week and then would send it on.

You pulled out the four envelopes you’d been waiting on and laid them on the counter in front of you. When you announced at the end of your previous semester that you were dropping out of business school to pursue a degree in art, your father had cut you off completely. Well, he would in less than two weeks when the new semester started and you weren’t enrolled in your business classes. These were the letters that would tell you how much financial aide you would be receiving to help with school.

The letter from the art school was first. They had their own scholarships and grant programs and you’d applied for everything you were eligible for. You unfolded the paper and ran your eyes over the text.

“We think you for your interest. Your status is below. Blah, blah, blah.” Your voice trailed off and your brow furrowed as you took in the list. _Denied. Denied. Not awarded. Not qualified._ What the hell?

You ignored Curtis and Maria as they asked what the letter said and dropped the paper onto the counter. You grabbed the envelope for a state grant and skimmed that letter to find more of the same. As you feared, the two federal grants were no better. You licked your lips as moisture pooled in your eyes. You dropped your head into your hands.  

“Not even a dime,” you said, knowing your bosses were waiting for the verdict.

“What? That doesn’t make any sense.” Curtis snatched one of the letters off the counter to read it for himself.

You lifted your head. “I don’t qualify for any sort of aide because my father makes too much money.”

“But he’s not helping you pay for anything,” Maria argued.

“They don’t care. He’s capable of it, so they won’t help me.” Tears overflowed and ran down your cheeks.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. There’s still student loans.” His voice took on the soft tone he got when either you or Maria were upset.

You shook your head. “Not without him cosigning. And what’s the point of an art degree if I have to pay back thousands of dollars of debt when I graduate. I’ll be paying off loans until I’m eighty. Shit.” You shoved the papers across the counter. “Throw those away. I can’t stand to look at them anymore.”

“Maybe you should try talking to your dad again. Maybe he’ll see that you’re serious about art school and help you out. He could loan you the money at a lower interest rate.” Maria looked so hopeful you almost felt bad for snorting in disbelief.

“I wouldn’t bet on it. He’d probably charge me double.” It wasn’t that your father disliked you or anything, but he was used to people doing as he said, you included. And he wasn’t beyond doing whatever he had to enforce that compliance. The disappointed look on Maria’s face had you backtracking a little. “I’ll call him as soon as my shift is over.”

She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Nonsense. This is more important. You call him now.”

There was no point arguing with her. Maria always got her way. You gave her a nod and pulled out your phone before heading through the kitchen and out the back door. You leaned against the building and called your father.

“Rumlow.”

He always answered the phone like that. As if he were too busy for any sort of formalities or niceties. It bothered you maybe more than it should have, but you had been raised by your mother for the first ten years of your life. A more courteous, kind person had never existed. You were the product of a youthful indiscretion as your father put it. Though his parentage had been confirmed by a DNA test, you looked nothing like him. All your features came from your mother to the point you could have been mistaken for her clone. You even carried her last name.

In rare moments, your father would really look at you and tell you how much you reminded him of her. The thread of regret in his voice always made you wonder if that was a good or bad thing. You shook your head, knowing you were only putting off the inevitable. “Hello, Dad.”

There was a brief pause “Y/N. This is a surprise. What can I do for you?”

“I want to borrow some money.” You forced the words out.

“Borrow?”

You sucked in a breath to steel your nerves. “Apparently the school doesn’t care that you are refusing to pay. I don’t qualify for any of the financial aid I’ve applied for because you make too much money. The only option left is student loans.” You braced yourself, prepared to listen to his insane requirements for lending you the money.

“No.”

His outright refusal took you a minute to recover from. “Just like that?”

“Just like that, Y/N.” He sighed when you didn’t say anything. “Listen, I know you don’t see it, but this is for your own good. You’ll thank me in the long run.”

You hummed low in your throat. “You think so?”

“I know so. With a business degree, all sorts of doors are open for you. Hell, you could work for me when you graduate. Take over the company someday.”

You bit your tongue to keep from telling him that would be the last thing you’d be doing. His company was involved in too many things that didn’t set right with you. Nothing illegal, but some of it was damn sure immoral. “Business doesn’t interest me, dad. I gave it a shot like you asked, and it wasn’t me. You know that.”

“What I know is that is a choice you are making and a damned stupid one. I don’t have to agree with it and I sure as hell don’t have to support it.” He was near shouting by the end.

“Okay. I get it.” You hated fighting with him.

“No. I don’t think you do. But you will. This was the last month I will be paying your rent so I suggest you make other arrangements. I doubt you can pay it on your own with what you make at that diner.” When he told you to get a job in high school, the diner was not what he had in mind. He’d offered you a job in his company mailroom and you’d decided to wait tables instead.

The line had gone silent. “Dad?”

No response.

The bastard had hung up on you.

A sob tore its way from your chest and you did your best to suck it back down. You hated that you got like this, but you couldn’t help it. Every time you fought with your dad, you cried. It was stupid, but unavoidable apparently.

You swiped the tears from your cheeks and focused on breathing. You needed to calm the hell down and get back to work. Not wanting to get sucked into a lengthy conversation, you tapped out a text to your best friend Wanda.

You had met her and her twin Peter the first week of your freshman year. You all attended the same private high school. Wanda was a fellow artistic soul and the two of you quickly became inseparable. Peter was a track star who inexplicably liked hanging out with the two art nerds. When he died in a car accident your Junior year, Wanda almost faded away with him. Slowly she healed and things were as normal as they could be with part of your trio lost for good.

The two of you were supposed to look at apartments later this week so you could live together just off campus. There was no way you could afford to do that now. You weren’t even going to be able to attend classes this semester. If you called, she would only argue with you, claiming she didn’t need you to pay any rent. And she didn’t. Her father was as well off, if not more so than your own. Unlike your own, he’d actually encouraged her to attend art school. But you couldn’t let her pay your way. You wouldn’t.

Text sent, you slipped the phone into your apron and swiped at your eyes again, hoping there were no remnants of your tears remaining. You stepped inside the door and were immediately wrapped in a tight hug by the petite Hispanic woman you worked for.

“I am so sorry, baby. I listened, I couldn’t help it. I was worried.”

You hugged her back. Honestly you didn’t mind that she had eavesdropped. It kept you from having to repeat everything. Joshua, their middle son glanced over from his spot by the grill and looked you over. You gave him a little wave.

“Someone make you cry? Do I need to have a word with someone?” His gruff tone had you grinning. All three of their sons treated you like a sister, including being a bit overprotective.

Maria clicked her tongue again and waved her son off. “It’s just that father of hers.”

He nodded and turned back to the food he was cooking. You phone buzzed in your pocket as it rang. You ignored it, knowing it was Wanda. You didn’t feel like crying again right now.

“We have a spare room. And you know you can have all the hours you want. Study between customers. Just like Jericho.” Jericho was their youngest son who was in the middle of getting his law degree.

“Don’t do it, Y/N. It sounds nice but don’t be fooled,” Joshua called over his shoulder, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Oh, stop it you,” his mother chastised before turning back to you. “And you get to work. This will all work out. You’ll see. Just have a little faith.” 


	2. Chapter 2

“I don’t understand why you won’t give me this one thing.”

Sharon’s voice had taken on a nasal quality that grated on Clint Barton’s nerves. Of course, the entire argument was an annoyance he shouldn’t be bothered with. They had an agreement for a reason. He clenched his teeth and worked the muscle in his jaw. He was choosing his words carefully, not wanting the conversation to devolve any further. “I’m going to assume you didn’t mean to imply that I don’t provide you with everything you need.”

Her full bottom lip curled out in a pout and she batted her eyelashes at him. “You know I didn’t mean that, baby. You take such good care of me.”

He arched a brow but didn’t bother to respond. The monthly credit card bill was more than sufficient to show that she was more than taken care of. He crossed the room to look out the window, putting her at his back. Not for the first time, he wondered if it was time to end this. Sharon could be difficult at times but did it outweigh the time and effort he would have to put into finding a new companion? He sighed. _God, I sound like a miserable bastard_ , he thought. Though he tried not to think about it too hard as he was far from happy with his current situation.

Small hands ran over the back of his jacket and across his shoulders.  He resisted the urge to shrug off her touch.

“Look, we’ve been seeing each other for awhile now. My father thinks it time the two of you met. That’s all.” She’d curbed her tone to sound more reasonable and less whiney, but it was all a game. Everything that came from her mouth was calculated to get what she wanted. It should probably have bothered him more than it did, but he knew what she was when they started this.

He turned to face her. “The only reason he wants to meet me now is you’ve led on that we’re more than what we are. You could have told your parents that this was a casual relationship.”

Her lips pursed and she huffed as she turned away from him to grab her drink off the table. “They aren’t likely to believe that when I’m living with you.”

“We do not live together. You’ve never even seen my house and I’m barely ever here. I hate this apartment.”

Her brow furrowed as if this was news to her, though he’d mentioned it before. “What?”

He shrugged. “It’s cold. Impersonal.” Everything in the apartment was chrome and shades of gray. Nothing about it remotely said home to him.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I thought you’d approve. The designer I hired was one of the best.”

“I did say something, but I’m not the one living here, Sharon. If this makes you happy, so be it.” He raked a hand through his hair.

Her scowl slid into a sly smile. “See, I knew you cared about my happiness.” She sauntered back over to him and slipped her free hand into the front of his jacket. “You want everyone to think you’re so cool and unmovable, but you’re such a good boyfriend, Clint.”

Panic crawled up his spine when she called him her boyfriend. That wouldn’t do at all. He grasped her upper arms and moved her back away from him. “That’s not what this is and you know it. Quite frankly, I’m getting tired of having to remind you.”

“Why are you like this?” Tears welled in her eyes.

Clint didn’t even bother to hide his eye roll. The tears were about as real as the rest of her. “I’m the same as I was the day you met me.”

She slammed her glass down before crossing her arms over her chest. “That’s precisely the problem. By now I thought you would have come around to the idea of us. We’re perfect together. Why can’t you see that?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t love you? It’s too late for that.”

Clint pinched the bridge of his nose. He pulled out his phone and began to send a series of texts. Without looking at her, he spoke. “We’re done here, Sharon. Tonight signals the end of our agreement. This is over.”

“You’re breaking up with me because I told you that I love you?” Her voice was low, little more than a whisper.  

He bit back the harsher words he wanted to say. This was a business arrangement, nothing more. He wouldn’t let her get to him. “You don’t love me and don’t fool yourself into thinking otherwise. You love my money. Not that I expect you to know the difference.”

Her glare might have made a lesser man pause, but Clint barely acknowledged it. “You can’t do this to me. I’ll tell everyone the truth. I’ll let them know the kind of man you are.”

His brows lifted and his mouth twitched at the threat. He licked his lips. “You signed a contract that forbids you from doing precisely that. Do it and you’ll hear from my attorneys. Besides, do you really want to tell everyone that you agreed to be in a relationship with me in exchange for money? I don’t think it’s me people will be judging.”

She stomped her foot and growled in frustration. His eyes followed her as she paced angrily across the floor. Suddenly, she snapped back toward him. “I’ll tell them you hit me.”

Anger flared through him then, hot and hungry. His shoulders rolled back and his spine went rigid. “You want to repeat that?”

Sharon ran her gaze over him and whatever she saw must have been enough to make her rethink her words. She shook her head. “I deserve more than this. I deserve better.”

“You deserve nothing. I have paid your every expense for the past eight months in exchange for you decorating my arm in public and a few nights in a lukewarm bed. I was clear from the beginning that was all this was. All it would ever be. I am not responsible for your delusions.”

“But it’s not a delusion. You really care for me. I can tell.”

He felt a twinge of sympathy for her until she continued.

“Please don’t cut me off. I need you.”

“As you’ve just made abundantly clear, you need my money. Not me. Frankly, you aren’t worth the headache anymore. I’ll give you three days to vacate the apartment. You may take personal belongings only. Everything else is to remain.” It was harsher than he intended to be, but apparently it was needed in this situation.

Her arms dropped to her sides as she gaped at him. “You can’t just expect me to leave. This is my apartment.”

“No, it’s _my_ apartment. You really should read your contract, sweetheart.” And with those words, he turned and left. He slammed the door on her cursing his name and took the stairs two at a time down to the garage.

As his driver opened the door to the car for him, Clint smiled. He felt lighter than he had in weeks. Yes, Sharon was a weight he should have done away with some time ago.

“Is Miss Carter not joining us?” Scott asked and Clint didn’t miss the way the corner of the man’s mouth kicked up. His driver had never cared for Sharon and the feeling was mutual.

“Miss Carter will not be joining us again ever,” Clint answered as he slid onto the back seat. He could have sworn he heard Scott mutter ‘thank fuck’ before he shut the door. Clint chuckled and finished sending the emails he needed to make sure the flow of money in Sharon’s direction stopped.

His relief was only dampened by the fact he would have to find a new companion or he’d be right back to dodging money hungry women in no time. One soul-crushing relationship in a lifetime was enough. He had no desire to ever repeat the experience.

***

Once he arrived home, he dismissed Scott and entered through the kitchen door at the side of the house. He jerked to a stop when his eyes fell on Wanda sitting at the table with a pint of ice cream in front of her. Though she was scowling at the food in front of her, she wasn’t crying. Clint could handle anything as long as she didn’t start crying. Despite her obvious upset, he found himself smiling. He was always happy to see his girl. The house had been far too quiet since she moved into her own place closer to school.

He unbuttoned his jacket and shrugged out of it before tossing it over the back of one of the chairs. After that, he loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves to reveal several of his tattoos. There. Now, he felt more like himself. He eyed Wanda but she still hadn’t acknowledged him beyond lifting her spoon in a wave. Moving to the fridge, he grabbed a couple of beers and went to join her at the table. He offered her one but she made a face.

“Beer and ice cream? Yuck.”

He grinned and cracked his open. After taking a long swallow, he sat the bottle on the table. “Lay it on me.”

“It’s not a big deal. I’m just a little bummed.” She rested her chin in her hand with a sigh.

“If it’s not a big deal, why did you drive all the way over here to eat my ice cream?”

She scoffed and narrowed her eyes at him. “Since when do you like pistachio?”

He shrugged and took another sip of his beer. “Talk to me. Who do I need to kill?”

That got him a laugh and his heart lightened considerably.

She shook her head. “It’s Y/N.”

Clint’s chest tightened a little at the mention of your name. You’d been a fixture in their lives since high school. He’d gotten used to having you around. Sometime in the last couple of years, he’d realized his feelings for you had shifted. Once he had, he’d done his best to stomp them into the ground and when that failed to work entirely, he started to avoid you. “Did you two have a fight?”

Wanda’s brow furrowed. “Of course not. We’re just not getting the apartment together anymore.”

He leaned back in his chair with a frown. The two of you had been planning on being roommates forever but it wasn’t practical with you in business school. Your change in majors had come with a transfer to Wanda’s college so now was the perfect time. “Well, why not?” Clint prompted when she didn’t continue on her own.

“Her father refuses to pay for anything unless she goes back to business school. He’s kicking her out of her apartment and cutting her off completely. She planned on financial aid covering her expenses but they won’t give her any money since her dad makes too much,” she told him quickly without taking a breath.

“Fucking Rumlow,” Clint muttered. He hated that man and still didn’t understand how someone like Y/N could have the same genes. “She doesn’t have to pay for her portion of the apartment, Wanda. You know I don’t care about that.”

She pointed at him with her spoon. “I know that and I told her as much, but she won’t do it. She can’t afford her classes much less her half of an apartment. They offered her all the hours she wanted at the diner but she won’t do that either. She’ll think it’s taking advantage of their kindness. You know how she is. I think she’s going to get another job. I’m never going to see her.”

Clint sipped at his beer as he mulled over the situation. If it was up to him, he would just pay for your tuition and your half of the apartment, but Wanda was right. You wouldn’t take it. You were one of the best people he knew and you certainly didn’t deserve any of this. Maybe he should call Rumlow and have a few words with him. He doubted that would have any affect on the situation, but he couldn’t think of what else to do.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. A glance at the screen showed a text from Natasha wanting to verify he and his plus one would be attending a charity gala on Friday evening. He started to type back a reply but froze, his thumb hovering over the phone. He’d just had a fantastic, horrible idea. He slipped his phone back into his pocket without responding.

You needed money, which he could provide. And he needed someone with a flexible schedule to attend events with him. Go to the occasional dinner. Someone to make him appear unavailable. You were always ready and anxious to help where needed. If he explained this right, maybe both of you could end up with what you needed. And if it meant he spent more time with you, he wouldn’t complain. He could manage to keep his hands to himself while you enjoyed each other’s company. He’d been practicing for years now.

He cleared his throat, catching Wanda’s attention. He met her eye and smiled. “Have Y/N come by the office and see me tomorrow. I might be able to help her out.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

The next day you stood in front of the Hawkeye International building and shielded your eyes as you gazed up at it. You’d been here before with Wanda, but this was the first time visiting on your own. Taking a deep breath, you steeled your nerves and stepped through the door. After giving your eyes a minute to adjust, you made your way to the front desk to get a visitor’s badge.

Once you showed your ID, the rest of the process was hassle free as you were on the permanent access list. Clint had seen to that after the third time you’d shown up with Wanda unexpectedly and they’d had to track him down to get permission for you to visit. You smiled at the memory as you clipped the badge they gave you to your clothes. Clint had gone off on an absolute tirade. It had been clear that he understood the need for security but didn’t care for the process behind it much.

According to Wanda, her dad was still very much the soldier with an idea and some well-connected friends, as opposed to the typical CEO. Clint Barton had served in the special forces and had been a member of the US archery team. His brilliant mind had combined the two into a business. His company specialized in survival gear. A collapsible bow had been their first product and from there they’d just continued to grow.

You also knew that Hawkeye had combined with Stark Industries to create a line of prosthetics aimed at soldiers and athletes that would enable them to continue to do the things they thought they would no longer be able to. That was due to Bucky Barnes, whom had served with Clint and lost an arm. Wanda said he did everything with his new arm he could do with the old. Sometimes more.

Lost in your thoughts, you arrived at the top floor quickly and had to reach out a hand to stop the door from closing on you. You shook your head and walked down the hall to Clint’s office. You’d been awake half the night going over everything you knew about Clint and his company. He had to be offering you a job, right? Why else would he want to see you? Of course, if you didn’t have a giant crush on the man in question, you probably wouldn’t be so nervous.

His assistant Wade ran his eyes over you as you approached and gave you a tight smile when you stopped in front of his desk. “Can I help you?” It didn’t matter how many times you came here, this man never remembered you.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I’m here to see Clint Barton.” Of course, you are. This is his office. Damn it, Y/N. Get yourself together. “He’s expecting me.”

He blinked and kept that fake smile plastered to his face. “I am aware.” He picked up his phone and pressed a button, keeping his eyes locked on you the entire time. “Boss, your guest is here. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir.”

The _yes, sir_ s continued as the office door opened. Clint looked between you and Wade with a frown. “Wade. I’m not even on the phone anymore. What the hell are you doing?”

He hung up the phone and laced his fingers together while keeping that stupid expression on his face. “Nothing, boss.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as Clint closed his eyes and shook his head. “Go to lunch, Wade.”

“It’s only 11:00.”

“Lunch, Wilson.” Clint’s voice was little more than a growl.

“I think I’ll just go to lunch.”

You and Clint watched Wade disappear down the hall. When you turned back toward him, you found Clint fighting a grin. He stepped back and opened the door wide. “Come on in, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks heated with the endearment which was stupid but you couldn’t help it apparently. He closed the office door behind you and steered you to a chair with a hand on your back. His thumb rubbed lightly back and forth which only served to make your face heat more. Once you were both settled in your seats, Clint laced his hands together on his desk and looked you over.

Honestly, it had been awhile since you’d seen him for more than a few minutes at a time so you took the opportunity to look him over as well. You were used to seeing him in jeans and t-shirts or dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up and he seemed out of place in the suit to you. But damn did he wear it well. Realizing you’d been staring for perhaps a beat too long, you tore your gaze from him to look out the window.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. “I assume you’re wondering why I told Wanda to have you come see me.”

“A bit, yeah. I mean I assume it has something to do with everything going on right now.” You met his eyes briefly before looking down. “I wish she hadn’t told you about that.”

“What? Why?” He seemed genuinely confused but you still couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze.

You didn’t answer and it wasn’t long before a pair of well-dressed legs and designer shoes filled your vision as Clint came around the desk to stand in front of you. Now you were even more embarrassed than you had been before. Him crouching in front of you and placing a hand under your chin to lift your head didn’t help that any. His clear blue-green eyes searched yours. “Talk to me, Y/N.”

It wasn’t a request. You wiped a hand down the top part of your face and huffed out a breath. “It’s just embarrassing.”

He straightened and leaned against the front of his desk. He crossed his arms over his chest and you couldn’t help but notice the way it pulled the fabric of his coat tight across his shoulders. You bit your lip and looked away from him. “What on earth do you have to be embarrassed about? None of this is your fault.”

You let out a laugh. “Try telling that to my father. He’d say this is entirely my fault.”

Clint arched a brow and pursed his lips. “Yeah, well… It’s probably best if we leave my opinion of your father out of the conversation.”

You hummed in agreement and left it at that. “So, why did you wish to see me, Mr. Barton?”

His eyes seemed to darken as they ran over you again and his tongue darted out to trace his bottom lip. Finally, he cleared his throat. “You haven’t called me anything but Clint for years, Y/N.” His voice was low, rough.

It was true, you hadn’t. Why it slipped out now, you had no idea. Well, maybe you had a bit of one. The corner of your mouth kicked up in a grin and you hoped he didn’t notice the way your cheeks heated. “It’s the suit.”

He glanced down in surprise as if just realizing what he was wearing. When he looked back up, he was grinning. “This _is_ a bit different than what you usually see me in.” He tilted his head. “Does it meet with your approval?”

You sucked in a breath as your eyes widened. Why would he ask you that? Why would he care what your opinion was? Your gaze ran over him of its own accord before you met his gaze again. “It’s nice. Not my favorite look on you, but it holds its own.”

His brows lifted. “And what exactly might your favorite look for me be?”

You knew the moment the words left your mouth that they were a mistake. You shook your head instead of answering. “Why am I here, Clint?”

His lips twitched and he glanced down briefly. When he looked back to you, you saw a spark of something in his eye you couldn’t identify. “I have a proposition for you.”

You brushed aside his odd wording. “Like a job?”

“Not remotely.”

Your brow furrowed. “Then what?”

He sighed. “I am about to tell you some things that I prefer you not repeat to anyone. Including Wanda. Normally I’d have you sign something before we had this conversation, but I’ll accept your word.”

“I won’t say anything,” you replied with no hesitation.

“I haven’t dated anyone in years,” he started.

You frowned. That wasn’t true at all. You’d seen some of the women he dated, compared yourself to them. Each and every one of them had been gorgeous.

Clint chuckled at your expression. “Never play poker, Y/N. Your emotions are written all over your face.”

You barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “All right. If you know what I’m thinking then explain.”

“I had agreements with those women. Contracts.”

Your eyes went wide. “So, they were escorts?”

“Absolutely not,” he was quick to protest with a shake of his head. “It’s not about the sex. It’s about the relationship.”

It must have been obvious that you were confused as hell because he looked at you and sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, look… Do you remember when you and Wanda were in high school and that kid Joel found out Rumlow was your dad?”

Your lip curled in disgust automatically at the memory. “He tormented me from the day he met me and all of a sudden he wanted to date me. Asshole.”

He smirked. “Exactly. Now imagine that same scenario only you are well past marriageable age and everyone knows precisely who you are and can estimate how much money you have. You know I made my fortune. I didn’t grow up with money. There was a time I didn’t understand the lengths people will go to get it. I was naïve about a woman once. I won’t let it happen again.”

By the end of his little spiel, his smile had faded entirely and his words were clipped. Whatever had happened to him, must have been brutal. You wondered if Wanda even knew. If she did, she’d never mentioned anything about it. “And what does this have to do with me?”

“I recently terminated my contract with Sharon. I need a new companion and I am offering that position to you.”

You blinked several times then licked your lips. You should refuse outright, but you always were too curious for your own good. “And what does that mean exactly?”

Despite the fact that he was the one offering you the position, Clint seemed slightly stunned that you hadn’t just turned him down. “You accompany me to events. We go on dates. Spend time together if we choose. As far as everyone else is concerned, we are dating and I am unavailable. In return, I take care of you.”

“Take care of me?”

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “I will pay for all your living expenses, including school. You would need to leave your job at the diner. School will take up enough of your time without adding a job to the mix. If you still want to work, I can find you something here so you can be off when I need you to be.”

You hopped to your feet and paced the floor, glancing at him occasionally as you processed what he’d just said to you. It couldn’t be that simple. “I feel like there’s a catch I’m missing.”

 Clint shook his head. “No catch, Y/N. It’s a business arrangement. Nothing more.”

Coming to a stop in front of him, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Okay. Then why me? Is this a pity thing?”

His brow furrowed. “Pity?”

You shrugged. “I’ve seen the women you go out with. They’re gorgeous. Sophisticated. I’m just…not. Yes, things kind of suck for me right now, but I can deal with it. I don’t need your charity, Clint Barton.”

He reached out and grasped your waist to pull you closer. One hand stayed settled on your hip while the other pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You ignored the tremor that ran up your spine at his touch. “First of all, you are stunning and any man would be proud to have you on his arm. Second, if any pity is involved, it would be you taking pity on me. The women I have had arrangements with in the past have all been beautiful, that’s true. They’ve also been bitchy, shallow, and, in the case of one, just plain stupid. It would be a pleasant change to actually enjoy spending time with the person that’s supposed to my girlfriend.”

“So, we wouldn’t be dating but would appear to be for all intents and purposes?”

“Exactly.” His hand cupped the side of your neck then his thumb ran across your jawline. “We would simply be two adults that enjoy one another’s company spending time together.”

Your heart raced in your chest and it became slightly harder to take a deep breath. “And no sex?”

Pink dusted his cheeks even though he smirked at the question. “If it happens, it happens but it is not a requirement, no. The only place you’ll find it mentioned in the contract is in the non-disclosure portion.”

You licked your lips as your eyes locked on his. “And PDA?”

He nodded slightly. “We do have to be a believable couple but we’re talking hand holding and the occasional kiss. We don’t need to have a full make out session in public.” Laughter colored his words.

Your gaze darted up to meet his. “I’m glad you find me so amusing.”

Both of his hands shifted so he was cradling your face. “I’m not amused. I’m fucking thrilled you’re even considering this.”

And you shouldn’t be. God, you should have run in the opposite direction the moment the conversation started. But now all you could think about was the warmth of his hands. Or what his lips would feel like against yours. Could you really pass up the opportunity to spend time with him? Kiss him? You sucked in a breath for fortification then leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

There was no hesitation on his part, no question lingering on those sweet, soft lips. He used his hands to tilt your head to the perfect angle and traced your bottom lip with his tongue. When you gasped, he seized the moment to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Your tongues danced around each other, easily finding a rhythm. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed yourself against his front. His fingers slid back to tangle themselves in your hair and hold you in place.

He grew hard against you while you grew warm in all the right places. You’d never had a kiss like this. One that you felt through your whole body, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You’d imagined kissing this man dozens of times but never had your brain even come close to this. There was no way you could pass this up. Even if it wasn’t real, you wanted it for however long you could hold on to it.

Finally, you pulled away, tracing your tingling lips with your tongue as you studied his expression. He looked just as dazed as you felt. “Wow.”

“Wow, indeed.” He kissed you again, softer and less needy this time. It lasted only a few seconds which wasn’t nearly long enough in your opinion. “I guess that answers the question of chemistry.”

You laughed at that and pulled away from him completely, praying your legs remained steady long enough for you to leave his office with your dignity intact. “Get me the contract, Clint. I’ll read it and let you know.”

You felt his eyes on you as you left his office and you glanced back just before you passed through the door. His dark gaze burned as he watched you, and the smile he graced you with was downright sinful. Damn.

This was either going to be the best decision you ever made or the worst.

****

Clint’s gaze followed you until you disappeared through the door. That kiss still played in his mind. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shared a kiss like that with someone. Had he ever? He reached over to pick up his phone and pressed one of the speed dial buttons.

“Odinsons Attorneys at Law,” a soft voice answered.

“This is Clint Barton. I need to speak to one of the brothers, please.”

“Of course, sir.”

Soft music played as he placed was on hold. Thor and Loki Odinson had taken over the firm built by their father decades ago. Their sister Hela was the third partner but her specialty was criminal law so Clint had rarely interacted with her. The brothers, however, handled all his personal issues and headed the legal team if his company was ever taken to court. Hawkeye International had inhouse attorneys though they mainly read forms and wrote press releases.

“Clint, what can I do for you?” The smooth voice of Loki came over the phone.

“I’m going to need another copy of the usual contract. I’ll send you the pertinent details.”

“Finished with Sharon already?”  The brothers weren’t only his attorneys, they were his friends.

“She was a bit much.”

Loki hummed in what Clint assumed was agreement. “And the rest?” the attorney asked.

Clint pursed his lips in thought. The usual package wasn’t quite right for you. “Get her a card, of course. No limits. Sell the current apartment. I’ll need a new one near the art institute. I’ll send what I’m looking for in the email.”

There was a stretch of silence. “Are you certain it’s wise to give her free reign on your account?”

“Believe it or not, I actually found one I trust.”

“And the apartment? You’ve had it for years. Do you really want to sell it? Perhaps we should hold onto it. We can always obtain the new one for you as well. Rent this one out perhaps in the meantime.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate that apartment, Loki. Just sell it and whatever is left there. I’ll send you that email. Let me know what you find ASAP, please.”

He hung up without waiting for a response. His eyes found the door again as he thought of you and that kiss. That was a hell of a kiss. And you’d initiated it. He’d wondered for a long time what your lips would feel like on his and he sure as hell wasn’t disappointed. Even now, he wanted more.

This was either going to be the best idea he’d ever had or the worst.


	4. Chapter 4

No matter what decision you made or what else was going on in your life, you had to be out of your apartment soon. You had so much stuff to pack that looking around your little apartment just overwhelmed you. So, you did the only thing you could. You ignored all of it and painted. As far as you were concerned, there was nothing in life that canvas, a paintbrush and paint couldn’t make better.

It usually worked anyway. Today, you couldn’t get your mind to turn from Clint. Part of you couldn’t believe you were even considering his offer. The rest of you kept thinking about that kiss. You’d never experienced anything like that before. And the fact that it had been shared with the man you’d had a crush on for the last six years just made it that much better.

You were well into your painting before you realized the blue you were using was the exact same shade as Clint’s suit from the day before. “Damn obsessive brain,” you muttered to yourself. Your phone rang and you wiped your hands off on a rag before answering. “Hello?”

“Hello, gorgeous.” Clint’s raspy voice came over the line drawing a smile from you in response.

“Hello, handsome. What can I do for you?” You hoped he wasn’t calling for a decision as you were still torn.

“I was wondering if you could meet me somewhere.”

You glanced down at your pajamas and paint stained hands. “Now?”

He hesitated briefly before responding. “It doesn’t have to be right this minute, but the sooner the better.”

“Could you give me like an hour? I’ve been painting and need to clean up a little.”

“Of course. Do you want me to send you the address or a car?”

You sighed. Your car was completely out of commission and had been for some time. You walked or took public transportation everywhere. “A car would be great.”

“You got it, sweetheart. Scott’s on his way and will wait downstairs for you.” He hung up before you even had a chance to respond.

***

Half an hour later you were properly dressed and considerably cleaner. As promised, Scott was waiting just outside the door. He greeted you with a grin and opened the door. “Hello, Y/N.”

He had run Wanda and you around on many occasions, including picking you up from the bar when both of you had a few too many. “Hey, Scott.”

“So where are we going?” you asked as he slid behind the wheel.

He shrugged and gave you that little half smile he had perfected. You rolled your eyes and he chuckled as he caught the gesture in his mirror.

It wasn’t long before you arrived at a large brown brick building near the art institute. You gazed up at it looking for some sort of sign. All you found was a small plaque indicating the building was called the Rembrandt. You scrunched your nose and climbed from the car when Scott opened your door. He took you to the front door of the building and pushed a button beside it. When a buzz sounded, he opened that door for you as well. “He’s in 501,” Scott instructed then went back to the car.

Your eyes followed him until the car pulled away. You climbed the stairs to the fifth floor and found the door to apartment 501 propped open. Clint was visible through the doorway. He leaned against the wall with one hand in his pocket as he scrolled through his phone with the other. You leaned against the doorframe and crossed your arms over your chest. Your eyes ran over the length of him and your heart sped up just a little.     

“You summoned me?”

The corner of his mouth kicked up but he didn’t take his eyes from his phone until he finished what he was doing. Once he’d slipped it into his pocket, he looked at you and grinned. “Hello, Y/N.”

“Clint.”

He gestured to the room with a sweep of his arm. “Come on in. Look around and tell me what you think.”

Your brow furrowed as you frowned at him. What was he up to? You stepped into the apartment and glanced around. Wood floors ran throughout and large windows let in an enormous amount of natural light. It was also huge. Just the kitchen and living room were the size of your place. The kitchen wasn’t large in and of itself, but it was bigger than what you’d find in most apartments. The short hall led to a master bedroom with an attached bathroom and a guest room. While the entire apartment was stunning, it was the guest room that caught your attention. Large windows let sunlight pour across the floor. It would be the perfect space for a studio.

“So, what do you think?” Clint said from behind you and you turned to meet his gaze.

“I think it’s lovely. What is it?”

He grinned. “It’s your new apartment.”

Your eyes widened. “You can’t be serious. I haven’t even agreed to your offer yet.”

“You will.”

“And what makes you so certain?”

His hands found your waist and he pulled you toward him. A moment later his lips found yours and you sighed into the kiss. Eventually, you needed to breathe and pulled away from him. “Oh, yes. That.”

“Yes, that,” he agreed with a chuckle. He continued to hold you to him as he raised a hand to push your hair behind your ear. His palm cupped your cheek as he studied your features. You leaned into the touch. “We could be good together, Y/N.”

You arched a brow and hummed. “True that may be, Mr. Barton, but I still haven’t seen your contract. My dad may be an asshole at the best of times but he did teach me a thing or two.”

“Fair enough, sweetheart.” He took a step back to put some space between the two of you and you immediately missed his warmth.

 _Keep your head straight, Y/N._ This was a business arrangement. The last thing you needed was to allow your libido to make decisions for you.  “Has Wanda seen it yet?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe as he smiled at you. “No reason for her to. Her apartment is on the other side of the campus.”

“I don’t need all this space,” you protested. “And this can’t be convenient for you. We’re nowhere near your office or the house.”

He lifted his chin in acknowledgement. “Let me worry about that. I’m more concerned with you having easy access to your classes.”

Well, you weren’t about to argue with that. You should insist he find something more convenient for him. He was paying for it after all, but the thought of being able to walk to your classes every day was just too tempting.

“Come on,” he said and headed back toward the living room. He grabbed a folder off the counter in the kitchen and handed it to you. “The contract.”

Your heart raced as you clutched the folder to your chest like a lifeline. The last two days had been completely surreal and you were hoping reading the contract would help anchor you in reality. Next, he held out a business card. You took it and frowned, not recognizing the name of the business.

“They have everything you could possibly need for an apartment. Once you sign off on the contract, go there and get whatever you need. They’ll send me the bill.”

“I have stuff, Clint. I’ve been living in an apartment for a couple of years, you know.” You felt awkward letting him buy you things, even if that was the nature of the relationship he was proposing.

He shrugged. “Do as you wish, but I expect it to be properly furnished or I’ll do it for you.”

You bit your lip and nodded, not really having anything else to say. He’d never been one for idle threats so you knew he’d do exactly as he said.

“Come on. I’ll see you home.” He placed a hand on your back to steer you toward the door.

Your arms hugged the folder to your chest. When the two of you reached the doorway, you stopped and turned to face him. He looked down at you, a question dancing in his eyes. You grabbed his lapel with one hand and pulled him toward you to press your lips to his. After a moment you pulled away and patted his chest. You grinned as you took in his slightly dazed expression.

There was a sway in your hips as you walked down the hallway, leaving Clint to trail behind you.


	5. Chapter 5

You were curled up on the couch in your apartment as you read through the paperwork Clint had given you. Everything was spelled out and straight forward. Not that you expected any less from the man. You tossed the folder down beside you and raked your hands through your hair. Now you were acting as if it was perfectly normal behavior to sign a contract to be someone’s girlfriend. What was wrong with you?

But, still…You glanced around your half-packed apartment and sighed. You were running out of time and didn’t have a lot of options. Live with Maria and work your ass off to maybe go to school next semester. Go back to business school. Or date the man you’ve had a crush on for years. When you broke it down like that, you weren’t certain why you were even hesitating. The decision seemed simple enough.

According to the contract, you were to accompany Clint to any public events and on private dates in public venues. Time spent together was at his discretion and you were to make yourself available. In exchange, he would provide you with an apartment, tuition, a credit card and any other necessary items. To everyone else it was to appear as if the two of you were in a committed relationship. You could not discuss anything you might hear concerning his business with anyone else. The arrangement could be terminated at any time by either party with one month’s notice or immediately upon the development of an emotional attachment.

So, fall in love and it’s over. Of course, that was only if he found out about it. You chewed on the end of your thumb as you stared at the folder. And what about Wanda? Surely, she was going to freak out when you told her you were dating her dad. Or maybe not. Lord knew she teased you often enough about your crush. 

You picked up your phone and sent a text to Clint before you could talk yourself out of it. Just one word. _Okay_.

Your phone rang almost immediately.

“I’m just verifying that’s a yes,” he said when you answered.

You smiled and rolled your eyes a bit. “It’s a yes.”

“Good. Movers will arrive at your apartment at eight. They’ll pack and move you to the new place. Someone will meet you there with the keys.”

“That was fast.” You were a little stunned, truth be told, and didn’t know what else to say.

“Already scheduled, sweetheart.”

“How could you have possibly known I would say yes? I didn’t know myself until I sent you that message.”

He hummed. “Let’s call it wishful thinking.”

“What are we going to tell Wanda?”

“The truth or a version of it at any rate. That we finally decided to act on our mutual attraction. And don’t try to deny it. You wouldn’t have kissed me like that if there was no attraction.” He sounded so smug. Part of you wished he was in front of you so you could knock him down a peg or two. How you had no idea, but you’d figure it out.

“Okay,” you answered with a quiet voice.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” His tone had dropped to match yours.

“I should feel cheap, you know. I’m basically selling myself for an art degree. But I don’t, not even a little bit.”

“And why is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t I feel worse about this? It seems like if I was a better person I would.”

He sighed and you could picture his frown. “If I thought there was something to be ashamed of, Y/N, I never would have asked you. Don’t overthink this. Just enjoy it.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “Alright, Clint. I’ll try.”

“That’s my girl. Now, get some sleep. You’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

***

The movers arrived at eight, just as promised. By the time they got there you were dressed and ready to go despite only getting a few hours of sleep. You’d tossed and turned the night before, excitement coursing through your veins. At some point, you’d given up on sleep and took advantage of your insomnia to register for your classes. You were signing up late, but as it was your first semester there, you were a little more flexible in the classes you could take.

By the time you figured out everything to your liking, you had classes three days a week. You’d need to sign up for studio time and whatnot but for the most part that was your schedule. You avoided any evening classes as that was most likely when Clint would need you to go out with him.

As the movers swarmed into your apartment, you just stood to the side with wide eyes. They moved like an efficient machine and would have you packed and moved in no time. You got the attention of the one that seemed to be in charge. “Hello, miss.”

You smiled. “Do you guys really need me here? I need to speak with the manager then I’ll grab a cab and meet you at the new place.”

He looked you over for a moment then shrugged. “If you trust us we can meet you there.”

“Clint wouldn’t have hired you if he didn’t trust you. Just be careful with the crates, please. It’s my art supplies.”

“Of course.”

You had one bag that you’d loaded with your valuables that you slung over your shoulder to take with you. Truth was, everything left in your apartment was pretty replaceable. You headed down to the manager’s door and knocked.

Joe answered with a smile. “Leaving us today, I see.”

“Yeah, well…” You didn’t say anything else. You didn’t need to. He knew you couldn’t afford to keep the apartment on your own. “Listen, are you still interested in my car?”

His eyes went widened. “Seriously? How much you want for it?”

Your car had been a graduation present from one of your father’s associates trying to make an impression with him. The mustang could have been a classic, but in your eyes, it was a piece of shit. It had problems from the beginning and was always in the shop. Never mind that the paint job was hiding a lot of rust. Frankly, you didn’t want to sink any more money into it and felt safer walking or taking public transportation. Joe, however, could do most of the work himself and wanted a project car.

You held up the keys and title. “I’ll make you a deal. You can have the car in exchange for my security deposit. Just tell my dad that I left paint everywhere. If he wants pics find some on the internet. He’s never been here so he won’t know the difference.”

He leaned to the side and came back with a checkbook. “You got a deal.”

He wrote you a check for the correct amount and you handed over the keys and signed the title over to him. “Thanks, Joe.”

“Take care of yourself, Y/N.” He was grinning as he shut the door. Well, you’d made his day and screwed your dad out of two grand in the process. He wouldn’t even miss it.

You stepped outside, squinting against the sunlight and pulled out your phone to call a cab.

“Miss Y/L/N.”

You turned to the voice with a frown. Scott Lang stood beside the familiar dark sedan holding the back door open for you. “What are you doing here?” you asked after you walked over.

His lips twitched. “Mr. Barton received notice that you were intending on taking a cab. He sent me instead.”

You shook your head but didn’t argue. Scott was way better than a cab. “Well, thanks.” He shut the door behind you and you settled into the seat.

He glanced at you in the rearview mirror as he drove. “I have your keys to the new place. I am also at your disposal for the day.”

“Doesn’t Clint need you for anything?”

Scott shrugged. “I’m a driver. There’s no one to drive when he’s in the office. If I wasn’t driving you, I’d be sitting in the parking garage reading a book.”

“Once the movers are done, I need a ride to Hawkeye. I need to deliver some things to Clint personally.” Tucked with the other things in your bag were the signed contract and your bill for school that had to be paid by Friday to ensure your place for the semester. You weren’t about to trust either to someone else.

“Can do.”

***

You stayed out of the way while the movers worked occasionally directing them in the placement of boxes and furniture. You’d invited Scott up and he stood beside you, the two of you engaging in conversation to help pass the time. The movers moved everything in even faster than they’d moved it out of the other place and were completely done by noon. That was a testament not only to their efficiency but your lack of belongings as well.

You signed the movers form and tried to tip them but they refused, saying Clint had already taken care of it. After they left and shut the door behind them, you and Scott stood there in silence for a stretch. Finally, he cleared his throat. “You do realize you’re going to have to buy some furniture, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you said with a sigh. The large expanses of empty space emphasized the size difference between the two apartments. What had seemed just right in your old place made this one look positively barren. “Well, let’s go see the boss. I’ll worry about this later.”

Scott nodded and held open the door for you to exit. He locked the door before handing off the keys which you secured in your purse. Paperwork tucked under your arm, you followed him down to the parking garage still in shock that this was your new home.


	6. Chapter 6

It wasn’t long before you once again found yourself standing in front of Wade Wilson’s desk waiting for him to acknowledge your presence. When he continued to type without glancing at you, you cleared your throat. You waited another moment before saying, “Excuse me.”

He held up one finger in a sign you should wait, finished his typing, then looked up at you with a smile and his hands laced together. “How may I help you today?”

“I have some things I need to give to Clint. Could you let him know I’m here?”

He tilted his head to the side and his smile slipped into an ‘I’m sorry’ expression. “Mr. Barton is terribly busy today. If you would like to leave whatever it is with me, I’ll see to it he gets it.”

Yeah, that so wasn’t happening. “I’d rather give them to him myself. If you would just let him know I’m here, I’ll wait until he has a second. It won’t take long.”

“Suit yourself.”

It didn’t take you long to realize that unless he’d sent an email, Wade had done nothing to inform Clint you were there. You gave a shake of your head as you pulled out your phone and sent a text.

Moments later, the door to Clint’s office swung open to reveal him frowning at his phone. A smile replaced the frown as he glanced up to meet your eye. He motioned you in before turning his scowl on Wade. You grabbed his tie as you passed by and pulled him along with you as you passed.

You closed the door before turning your attention to straightening Clint’s tie. Your eyes ran over the length of him and you licked your lips. Currently he was dressed in a black three-piece suit minus the jacket which was discarded over a nearby chair. His sleeves were rolled up to show the tattoos on each forearm. Realizing you were lingering, you cleared your throat and stepped back after one last pat.

Clint’s head was cocked to the side and he wore a half-smirk as he looked you over. “You okay, sweetheart?”

A quick nod was your response.

His eyes narrowed and he pulled you back to him. “You sure about that?”

You glanced down before looking back up to meet his gaze. “Remember when you asked me what my favorite look on you was? You found it.”

His smirk morphed into a grin. “I’ll have to remember that.” He kissed your forehead before stepping away to move back around his desk as a notification chimed on his computer. “Now, what brings you here? I hope there wasn’t a problem with the move.”

“No. They were great. I just wanted to bring this in.” You handed over the contract first. “Signed and delivered.”

He flipped through it to ensure it was signed in the appropriate places before unlocking his top desk drawer and putting the papers inside. Once he locked everything back up, he put the key in the pocket of his vest. “Thank you for that. I’ll get you a copy of the signed document.”

You shook your head. “It’s not necessary. I wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t the man you are, Clint. I trust you.” You shrugged. “Besides, if you fuck up, I’ll sic Wanda on you.”

His smile softened. “Guess I’ll have to be on my best behavior then.”

“Clint Barton behave? I wasn’t aware that was even possible.”

“Ha ha. You’re hilarious. What else do you have there?” he gestured at the paper still in your hands.

You bit your bottom lip and handed over the bill for your tuition. “I signed up for classes. Since I’m so late, the bill has to be paid by Friday to hold my spot.”

“Not a problem. I’ll make sure it’s taken care of today.” He picked up his suit jacket and slid the bill into one of the inside pockets before putting it on. “What’s on the agenda for you today?”

“Well, even with all my furniture moved in, my apartment looks pretty empty. I evidently need to go shopping.” Your cheeks heated at the admission. Part of it was embarrassment at how little you actually owned, the rest was talking about spending Clint’s money. It just wasn’t something you were comfortable doing.

He hummed and nodded his head before placing a hand on your back and turning you toward the door. “Sounds fun. Let’s go.”

You planted your feet and looked at him with wide eyes. “You want to go shopping? With me?”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to go with anyone else. Besides, there are some things I want to make sure you pick up.” His hand fell away and he turned to face you. “Unless of course, you don’t want me to go with you.”

You shook your head and grabbed his hand in yours to pull him toward the door. “Oh no, Barton. You aren’t getting out of it that easily.”

He laughed and followed after you. He couldn’t blame you for being surprised that he’d even offered. He’d taken Wanda and you shopping for Junior prom dresses and sworn it would never happen again. You wondered if he remembered, but you weren’t about to remind him if he didn’t.

He pulled you to a stop in front of Wade’s desk. “I’m out for the day, Wilson.”

The assistant’s gaze shifted between the two of you. Finally, he nodded and the corner of his mouth curled up ever so slightly. “Of course, sir. I’ve got it covered.”

Clint pursed his lips. “I know you do. That’s the reason I haven’t fired you yet.”

“Thank you, sir.”

If sarcasm could be conveyed through a smile, you were pretty sure Wade Wilson had it down to an art.

***

The store that Clint took you to was completely overwhelming. They had absolutely everything you needed to outfit your apartment from spatulas to sofas. You hadn’t been there long, maybe only half an hour or so. Clint had stripped down to only his dress shirt and trousers in the car so he looked significantly more casual than he had before. He was being uncharacteristically quiet as he trailed behind you but you could feel his eyes on you.

You had started in kitchenware but kept picking up things and putting them back so you’d moved on to furniture. The sofa in your living room was way past needing to be replaced and it wasn’t nearly large enough for the new space anyway. When you reached that department, your gaze immediately fell on a deep blue sofa with a chaise lounge on one end. You ran your hand over it reveling in the softness of the fabric beneath your fingers.

It was displayed with a pair of chairs covered in large blossoms in shades of blue and purple. You instantly fell in love with all of it. Until you saw the price tag. It was all entirely too expensive.

“Can I help you folks with anything?” a friendly voice said nearby and you turned to find that a salesman had stepped up beside Clint.

Clint shook the man’s hand. “My girlfriend and I are furnishing our new apartment. Unfortunately, we need pretty much everything. Think you can help us with that?”

A little thrill went through you when he called you his girlfriend but you shoved it back down. What else was he supposed to introduce you as?

The man’s brows lifted though you could tell he tried to keep his smile contained. “That’s my job, sir.”

Clint’s lips twisted as he glanced to you, his eyes flashing with amusement. “Fantastic. We’ll start with this sofa and two of these chairs.”

“No,” you exclaimed without even thinking about it. Both men looked at you in surprise. “I just mean it’s…I want something different is all.”

“Could you give us a moment?” Clint’s eyes stayed locked with yours though it was the salesman he was talking to.

Once the other man had left, Clint closed the distance between you. When you tried to break eye contact, he grabbed your chin and turned your face back toward his.  “What’s this?”

“I just want something different is all,” you protested.

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

He sighed. “Don’t feed me that, Y/N. I know you well enough to be able to tell when you like something or not. We’ve been here for forty-five minutes and you haven’t spent a dime. So, I’ll ask again and I expect the truth this time. What is this?”

“I don’t like spending money just for the sake of spending it, Clint. Yes, this couch is gorgeous, but I’m certain there is one a tenth of the price that will do just as well.” You gestured at the myriad choices around you while you spoke.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest and held you there for a long moment. He pressed kisses along the top of your head while he did. Your arms wove around his waist and you just enjoyed being held. “God, you’re a refreshing change,” he said disrupting the quiet.

His hands found your upper arms as he put some space between you so he could look in your eyes again. “Let me do this. Let me take care of you. You need furniture. Hell, _we_ need furniture. You can either pick out the stuff you really love or I will purchase the most expensive alternative just because I can. Okay?”

You still weren’t entirely comfortable with the thought of spending his money, but you knew he’s make good on his threat. You nodded once. “Okay.”

“Good.” He signaled for the salesman to come back over. “Sorry. She got a little sticker shock is all, so no discussion of prices.”

From the looks of him the salesman was moments away from cackling in glee. “Not a problem, sir. So, the couch and two of the chairs?”

“Yes—”

“No,” you interrupted and Clint looked at you in complete exasperation.

“Y/N, we just talked about this.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and you resisted the urge to giggle.

“One chair, please. And an ottoman. Do you have something in purple?”

***

Once you had selected every possible thing you could need for your apartment, and several things you didn’t, the two of you headed for the car. Clint’s fingers were laced with yours. You weren’t certain if it was because he just wanted to hold your hand or if he was afraid you’d pass out if he let go. You had spent more today than you ever had in your life and it wasn’t even your money.

You were stunned, but you didn’t want him thinking you weren’t appreciative though you’d already thanked him several times. “Are you hungry?”

He smiled. “I could eat. Have something in mind?”

“Yes, but you have to let me buy your dinner. As a thank you.”

His eyes revealed nothing as they ran over your face, but his smile turned into a grin. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

After the two of you had gotten into the back of the car, you leaned forward. “Hey, Scott. Take us to the Red Eye, would you?”

“Sure thing, Y/N,” the driver answered with a grin.

 


	7. Chapter 7

When Scott pulled up in front of the diner, you placed a hand on Clint’s arm to stop him before he got out. “You should know that this is my family in a way. They are more than a little overprotective and it kind of shifted into super mode when I quit. More because I told them my new boyfriend wanted me to focus on school which he was paying for. Just thought I should warn you.”

His lips twitched and something mischievous twinkled in his eyes. “Don’t be a creeper. Got it.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved him. He laughed as he climbed out and offered you hand. You let him help you out of the car but were surprised when he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you close to him. As you neared the door, you planted your feet, suddenly terrified. “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

Clint stopped and looked down at you with a furrow in his brow. After a moment, he said, “Why did you bring me here, Y/N?”

“Because you’ll love their food,” you answered with no hesitation. “And because I don’t want them thinking you’re going to lock me up in a closet or something.”

“Both are perfectly valid reasons for this visit, so relax. Besides, I’m starving so let’s go, Y/L/N.”

With that he put more pressure on your hip and pulled you along with him to the door. Once the bell announced your presence, escape was no longer an option. Curtis looked up at the sound, grinning when he saw you. The smile faded as his gaze shifted from you to Clint.

His oldest son Matt was wiping down the counter and turned to follow his dad’s glare. His own expression was soon an exact mirror of Curtis’s. You weren’t about to let them even start. “Maria, tell your men to quit scowling at my date.”

“Y/N? What are you doing here, baby?” came the woman’s familiar voice, immediately putting you at ease. When she emerged from the kitchen her smile slipped for less than half a second before it was firmly back in place. She snapped her dish towel at both men as she passed by. “Back to work, you two.”

She pulled you into a hug. “It is so good to see you.”

You laughed as you hugged her back. “You literally saw me two days ago.”

She huffed. “It’s different now. There used to be a schedule so I knew exactly how long it would be between seeing you. Now, who knows?” Her hands moved through the air in an exaggerated gesture and you shook your head. “And who’s this?” She smiled at Clint as though she hadn’t been pointedly avoiding him up until that point.

“Everyone, this is Clint. Clint this is Maria, Curtis and Matt.”

“And Josh!” came from the direction of the kitchen and your friend stuck his head out to wave.

Clint extended his hand to Maria. She took it but didn’t shake. Instead, she just held it as she looked him over. “And Clint is who exactly?”

“Seriously?” you muttered loud enough for her to shoot a frown in your direction.

“Clint is the man fortunate enough to be dating Y/N,” he said.

“Good answer,” Marie said, finally shaking his hand. She turned to you. “He’s smart _and_ pretty.”

Your face heated and you groaned. “Thanks, Maria.”

She nodded once. “You’re welcome.”

Clint was chuckling and you elbowed him gently in the side. “You wouldn’t by any chance have any enchiladas, would you?” You couldn’t keep the hope from your voice. Maria’s enchiladas were an off-menu specialty so you never knew when they’d be available but they were your absolute favorite food on the planet.

She smiled and turned to head back to the kitchen. “Joshua, eighty-six the enchilada special. Y/N will take the rest.”

“There’s two trays here, ma,” he responded.

Maria pushed through the swinging door. “I know what I said child, don’t argue with me.”

Curtis and Matt watched for another minute before returning to their work. You shook your head and led Clint to your favorite booth. The two of you settled across from each other and you could now see the pure amusement on Clint’s face. “I see why you like them.”

You shrugged. “It started as a job. A lot of people would have only seen a rich kid rebelling against their father. They know money’s not as important family, so they gave me that.”

He leaned back in his seat and tapped a finger on the table. “Has Rumlow met them?”

You turned away from him, briefly, embarrassed by what you were about to tell him. You took a breath and turned back. “He met Curtis and Maria once when he offered them money to fire me.”

Clint’s eyes widened and he licked his lips. “I can imagine how that went over. Of course, Rumlow never was very good at reading a room.”

The corner of your mouth curled up in a grudging smile. “Curtis threatened to punch him in the mouth and Maria chased him out with a spatula.”

He laughed. “I like these people more by the minute.”

Before you could respond, Matt arrived with your food, placing a plate in front of each of you. Your mouth watered at the overfull plate. “Thank you, thank you.”

He nodded before nudging you with his hip so you’d scoot over. You frowned but slid you and your plate over. He sat beside you and stared at your date. When Clint just stared back, Matt pointed at his plate. “Go ahead and try it. I’ll wait.”

Clint’s eyes moved between me and the man next to me as he took a bite. His focus quickly shifted to the food as he hummed in pleasure. “Holy shit.”

“Right?” you asked with a grin, trying to ignore Matt.

“This might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Clint continued his praises.

“How old are you exactly?” Matt asked, suddenly.

“Mattias Jones,” you snapped, which caught the attention of Curtis at the counter.

“I’m just looking out for you, sis.”

“Bullshit. You’re being an ass. It is none of your business or concern how old he is.”

He arched a brow at your tone but wasn’t about to give in so easily. “The hell it isn’t, Y/N. You just up and quit saying your new man is going to take care of everything and you expect us to just accept that?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I expect.”

He snorted.

“That’s enough, son.” Curtis’s deep voice surprised you and you realized he had moved over to the table while you were yelling at Matt.

“I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.” Your friend’s pointed gaze turned back to you. “Does he make you call him ‘daddy’, too?”

“No. I call him sir,” you replied without missing a beat.

There was moment of suspended silence before Curtis’s deep laughter filled the room. He dropped his hand on Matt’s shoulder. “She got you, boy. Always was quick this one.”

Clint cleared his throat drawing the attention of the three of you. His gaze had darkened considerably and stayed locked on Matt. “I appreciate you looking out for Y/N. But if you insult her again, we’re going to have a problem. Is that understood?” His voice was low and rough.

Matt opened his mouth but Curtis squeezed his shoulder to silence him. “He didn’t mean any offense. These two always did poke at each other, but you’ve been heard.”

Clint shifted his eyes up to Curtis and the two exchanged a nod.

Curtis pulled Matt from the booth. “Leave these two alone,” he said as he pushed him back toward the counter. “Go refill coffee.”

“Sorry, Y/N.”

You shook your head. “He’s a grown ass man, Curtis. Not your job to apologize for him, but thanks. Have Maria divide that to go bag she’s making into three, would you?”

He nodded as he patted your shoulder and walked away.

You turned back to Clint and your food. The two of you ate in silence for a while until you broke it. “What was that, anyway?”

He glanced up in surprise. “What?”

You gestured toward Matt with your fork. “That subtle threat thing?”

Clint laughed and wiped his mouth with his napkin before leaning back to look you over. “There was nothing subtle about that conversation, sweetheart. He wants to question me, check me out, fine. But he doesn’t get to insult you again. And yes, implying you’re fucking me for money is an insult.”

You glanced around to make certain no one overheard and leaned forward. “That’s exactly what I’m doing though, isn’t it?”

In a breath his eyes turned cold and his jaw set. His tongue ran along his bottom lip. “It’s time to go.”

You started to protest and he held up a hand to cut you off. “I don’t think you want to have this conversation here. So, say goodbye and I’ll meet you at the car.” And with that, he was up and gone. Shit.

***

 Clint stood beside the car with his arms crossed over his chest as he waited for you. This arrangement wasn’t exactly typical but he wouldn’t have you thinking of yourself as a whore. You’d try to pass it off as a joke, but he knew you better than that. As you came out of the diner, your steps faltered briefly when you found him waiting for you.

He sidestepped and opened the door for you. You climbed in without looking at him, though you were juggling three brown bags and were a bit distracted. As he climbed in behind you, he found you leaning forward to pass one of the bags to Scott.

“Maria’s enchiladas,” you told his driver with a grin.

“Yes! Thank you, Y/N.” Obviously Scott had been here before. With you. Irritation spiked through Clint but he shoved it down. Now wasn’t the time.

“Just drive until I tell you different,” Clint ordered before pushing the button to put the divider up between the front and the back.

You put the bags on the floor to the side before shifting in the seat so you were turned toward him. Your hands were folded together in your lap. He looked out the window as he tried to decide how to say what needed to be said without snapping at you.

“Are you angry with me?” Your voice was timid and Clint didn’t like it at all.

His head snapped back in your direction. “I think I need to clarify a few things.”

You nodded, keeping your gaze locked on your lap.

“I take care of you in exchange for your time and attention. Period. If you believe that makes you a whore, or gives other people permission to call you one, we can end this right here, because that’s not what this is.”

That got your attention. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip hard enough to bruise. He shoved aside the insane desire he had to kiss it better. That wouldn’t really help him get his point across. He shifted his weight in the seat and silently prayed his cock would behave better than it had been lately in your presence. This was important. He needed to know that you understood this.

“I know that, Clint. I really do. I just…” You sighed. “This is new for me, letting someone take care of me.” You turned and looked out the window. Clint ran his eyes over you, taking in the sudden tension in your posture. “My dad didn’t even know I existed until I was ten years old. He found out when a lawyer contacted him to tell him my mother was dead and he was my only family. He wouldn’t even admit it was a possibility until the DNA test came back, but he let me stay with him while we awaited the results.”

The more you talked the more you curled into yourself. All Clint wanted to do was reach over and pull you into his lap to comfort you. He crossed his arms over his chest again, to help him resist the urge.

You glanced back to him and gave a little smile. “He made certain I knew every time he spent money to get me something I needed. I was ten. I felt guilty as hell. Like a burden and made the decision to take care of myself as much as I could. I realize now that he was telling me so I would know he was taking care of me, but that wasn’t how I saw it at all.”

Clint clenched his teeth and a muscle in his jaw ticked. God, he hated Rumlow.

“It’s just really hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact you’re paying me to spend time with you. Something I would gladly do for free. I don’t feel like a whore, I promise. And I know you would never treat me like one or I never would have signed the contract.”

Some of the tightness in Clint’s shoulders faded with your words. “Good.”

You moved closer to him and your smile shifted to something entirely too sultry. He shifted in his seat again and swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I do think we should discuss this tension between us though, don’t you?” Your fingers trailed up his arm and his eyes followed them. His heart started to pound and his breathing grew shallow. Your hand found the side of his face and turned his head so your gazes met. “Sir.”

Lust swamped him and his mouth gaped ever so slightly. “Fuck me,” he muttered before he pulled you to him and crashed his lips into yours. God, you knew every single of his buttons and exactly how to push them. When the hell had this happened and why was he so damn thrilled that it had? His hands pushed into your hair to hold your head at the angle he desired while he fed at your mouth like a hungry man. And he was.

It had been years since he was intimate with someone he shared such an absolute attraction with. His large hands wrapped around your waist and shifted your position so you now straddled his lap. He swallowed the groan that fell from your lips. Your hands buried themselves in his hair and you tugged as you nipped at his lip. Fuck.

He shifted again so you were settled against the bulge in his pants. His cock was rock hard and begging to fill you, but Clint was still in charge and that wasn’t happening. At least not tonight. You rolled your hips and he could feel the heat of your core even through all the clothes between the two of you. Dear god. Not tonight, Clint.

The two of you made out like teenagers after prom. As you continued to roll your hips against him, you started to whimper. The sound called to the most primal part of Clint and he began to move with you, making sure his length rubbed against your clit every time the two of you met. You arched your back and let your head fall backward. His arms moved to support you while you trembled in his arms.

“Please, Clint. Oh god. So close.”

Pre-cum leaked from him with your words and he was pretty certain he was going to cum in his pants. Then it really would be like Junior prom. He increased his speed and you matched him. In a matter of moments, you were shaking as you came apart in his arms. His name coming from your lips as you did so was enough to have him following you.

His eyes near rolled back in his head as he pushed himself against you, his arms pulling you closer at the same time. Fucking hell. You collapsed against him as you struggled to catch your breath. He held you close and pressed kisses to the top of your head. His mind was trying to catch up with his dick. What the hell had just happened? He never lost control. Not like that. And he’d be surprised if this was normal for you. This connection the two of you had was amazing. And terrifying.

Clint stood on an edge he wasn’t sure of and wondered what would happen when he fell. Whatever it was, he was taking you with him.


	8. Chapter 8

When you finally arrived at your apartment, Clint walked you upstairs.

“I need to make sure we bought enough furniture,” he explained as you unlocked the door.

You shook your head. “You won’t be able to tell that until stuff is delivered.”

He just shrugged and followed you into the apartment. You tossed your keys in the bowl on the table by the door and turned to face him. He placed his hands on your elbows and pulled you closer to him. “I had a nice time today.”

You smiled up at him. “I did, too. I’m glad you went with me.”

He hummed in agreement before pressing his lips to yours. After a moment, he stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. You frowned at the suddenly closed off behavior. When he gave you that crooked smile, you brushed aside your concern. It was just Clint.

“Before I forget, we have an event to attend Friday night. A charity dinner. I’ll have something appropriate delivered for you to wear,” he said.

“Okay.”

“And…” he trailed off as he pulled out his wallet. He thumbed through it before pulling out several bills and passing them to you. “I have a credit card coming for you but until that gets here, you’re going to need to get your books and supplies.”

“Thank you.” You tucked the money into your pocket without counting it. Knowing Clint, you were sure he’d given you far more than you needed.

He slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned forward to kiss your temple. “I’ll see you later, gorgeous.”

You stepped back and opened the door for him. Your eyes trailed him as he disappeared down the hall. Only when you could no longer see him did you shut and lock the door. Sometime between the car and him walking into your apartment, Clint’s demeanor with you had changed. You’d pay dearly to know why.

***

 Clint sat in the back of the car and stared out the window as Scott drove him home. Despite how beautiful he thought the city was at night, he wasn’t seeing any of it. His mind was elsewhere. Stuck on you, truth be told. He rubbed a hand across his mouth as he remembered what the two of you had been doing in this car not that long ago.

Maybe this was a mistake. Not the making out. God, that was phenomenal. But thinking he could share any sort of intimacy with you and not get attached. Hell, he was already attached. Had been for a while. He sighed and leaned his head against the seat behind him as he tried to pinpoint what exactly was bothering him.

After all, the very reason he had asked you to begin with was this attraction he felt for you. And he knew you wouldn’t accept his help otherwise. He fully intended to use the opportunity to thoroughly ravish you and get this longing out of his system. What he hadn’t expected was for you to feel the same way.

Yes, he’d hoped you’d find him attractive and desirable but this heat between the two of you was crazy. He raised his head at the realization of what was bothering him. You had made the first move in the car. You might have been picking up his desire, but you were the one that came on to him. And he hadn’t been able to resist in the least.

He wasn’t used to anyone having that sort of power over him. Not for a long time anyway, and he wasn’t certain he liked it. What he did know was now that you two had crossed that line, there was no going back. Why the hell would he want to?

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out to see a text from you. _Hey handsome. Thanks again for today. I’m meeting Wanda for coffee in the morning. I don’t want her to hear it from anyone else. Just warning you._

Clint took a deep breath. He should brace himself for the conversation he was undoubtedly going to have with his daughter about all this, but instead he just felt relief that he didn’t have to be the one to tell her.

***

You sat across from Wanda at a corner table of a little coffee shop near campus. She was already suspicious because you didn’t want to meet at the Red Eye and your conversation had been strained.

Her petite hands were wrapped around her cup as she tilted her head and studied you. “Just tell me, Y/N. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”

You sucked in a breath and licked your lips. “Clint and I are dating.”

“Clint? As in my father Clint?”

You nodded.

She simply stared at you with no emotion showing on her face. “Since when?”

“A couple of days ago.”

After a moment longer, she nodded and leaned back in her seat. “That makes sense. He’d want to help and you wouldn’t take it. I can’t say I’m particularly thrilled about you taking him up on his offer. I don’t like you being one of his kept women.”

“Wait a minute. You know about his girlfriends?” You made finger quotes when you said the word girlfriend.

Wanda nodded. “Of course, I do. I’m not stupid.”

“He’s convinced that you don’t have any idea.”

She rolled her eyes. “He never brings them home. If he were really in a relationship with these women I would meet them. And most of them aren’t even his type. They’re shallow or stupid or both. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“How long has this been going on exactly?” Maybe Wanda could tell you some of the things you’ve been dying to know but didn’t want to ask Clint.

“Since Laura,” she said with a sigh. “It got worse after Peter. He had at least been going on the occasional real date before then.”

“Laura?” The name didn’t sound at all familiar.

Wanda’s eyes went wide. “I’ve never told you about Laura?”

You shook your head. “Never heard of her.”

“Laura. God, I haven’t talked about her in years. Do you remember the woman that tried to sit with us at Peter’s funeral?” she asked.

“I don’t remember much about her. I remember Clint telling her to fuck off and someone in the row behind us getting up to escort her out.”

Wanda nodded. “That was her. They dated for a couple of years. He proposed twice and she turned him down, telling him his focus should be me and Peter. He hadn’t adopted us long before they met. She got pregnant and Clint proposed again. This time she said yes.” She shrugged. “He wanted her to sign a prenup because of Peter and I. He wanted to make sure that we wouldn’t suffer should something happen to him. She went ballistic. Told him we weren’t even his real kids because we’re adopted and his priority should be her and the baby.”

“Well, she sounds lovely.”

“That’s just it. She was until this. Perfect girlfriend. Clint asked her to leave. Told her he’d talk to her later. Nat came over and convinced him it was baby brain. He left to talk to her.” Wanda sighed again. “When he got to her apartment, she didn’t answer. He let himself in to wait until she got home. He found her riding a man she’d introduced to him as her cousin. He hired a private investigator to dig into them. He intended to fight for custody of the baby.”

“It wasn’t his, was it?” You don’t know why you asked. The answer was obvious. If the child was Clint’s you would have heard about it long before now.

“It was a lie just like everything else. Her and this guy had been together the whole time. They were married in fact. All of it had just been for his money. They were going to get divorced so she could marry dad then take him to the cleaners.”

You covered your mouth with your hand. What a bitch. Poor Clint.

Wanda glanced down before looking back at you. “He really loved her. I think he decided right then that he couldn’t trust his heart ever again and as far as I know, he never has.”

“I can’t even imagine. He must have been devastated.” You couldn’t even imagine someone being able to do that to him. He was so caring and sweet. And it sounded like he’d been devoted to her. You had a sudden desire to hold him and tell him everything would be all right. That would go over well you were sure.

“I don’t know what would have happened if he didn’t have me and Peter. He was in pretty bad shape.” She tilted her head and ran her gaze over your face. “Can I ask you something and get an honest answer, Y/N?”

Your brow furrowed. “Of course, you can. I’m always honest with you.”

“Why did you say yes?”

“What?”

“I understand why he made the offer. He wanted to take care of you and knew it was the only way you would let him do it. But why did you say yes? This isn’t you.”

Why did you say you would answer her question again? Your face heated and you looked down at your hands that were tangled together in your lap. Deciding there was no getting around it, you gave a little shrug. “Because I like him. I have for ages.”

“I knew it,” she exclaimed.

You jerked your head up to find her grinning at you in triumph.

“I knew you liked him. You should have told me. We could have started working on him years ago.”

You blinked several times as you processed what she’d just said. “Wait. You’re not mad that I like your dad.”

She waved a hand through the air as if that was the silliest thing she’d ever heard. “Y/N, I love you. You are one of the best people in the world. I just want you happy. And if being with my dad will give you that, go for it.” Her smile fell and she leaned forward. “But you can’t let on that you care for him like that. If he even suspects that you love him, he will run in the opposite direction.”

“This is stupid, Wanda. How am I supposed to be happy when you tell me he’ll flee if he suspects it’s him that made me that way?” You cringed at the needy tone in your voice.

“Easy,” she responded with a grin. “Just don’t let him know. Be happy, be you and by the time he realizes you’re in love with him, he’ll have already fallen for you.”


	9. Chapter 9

By the time Friday came, all of your furniture had been delivered and set up. You were even mostly unpacked, though that wasn’t much of a feat considering most of your belongings were art supplies. You’d even found time to pick up the books and supplies you’d need for the semester. And, as you predicted, Clint gave you entirely too much money.

It was midafternoon when someone buzzed to be let in. “Yeah.”

“It’s me,” came Wanda’s chipper voice.

You grinned and let her in. You already had the front door open before she arrived, arms heavy with bags and packages. “Holy crap, Wanda. Are you moving in or what?” you joked as you unburdened her of some of the load.

“I come bearing gifts,” she announced as she dropped the rest of the things on your sofa. “And to help you get ready for your date.”

Your face heated. “It’s not a date.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Then I’m here to help you get ready for your not date.”

You sat the things in your hands on the table and shut and locked the front door. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but you aren’t exactly what I was expecting when Clint said he would send me a dress.”

“I volunteered so I could help with your hair and makeup. Besides, I’m having fun tormenting him. He keeps waiting for me to yell at him for dating you. The more accepting and nicer I am about things, the more paranoid he gets. It’s amazing.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m still not trusting it entirely myself.”

“I have my reasons, thank you. Now, look at the dress.” She thrust a box in your direction.

After taking it from her, you sat it on the counter in the kitchen to open it. You tossed the lid to the side and peeled back the tissue paper to reveal a stunning royal blue dress. When you pulled it out to hold it up, you were surprised at the weight though that was undoubtedly due to the beads on the bodice. It certainly wasn’t from the light, airy fabric that made up the layered skirt. “It’s beautiful.”

Wanda nodded. “And there are matching shoes and a clutch. There’s even jewelry around here somewhere.” She glanced around at the boxes.

You frowned and tucked the dress back into the box. “This is a lot.”

She tilted her head and looked you over. “If it makes you feel any better, he probably had the personal shopper at the store pick out everything. That’s what he usually does.”

It did make you feel better, but also a little disappointed. You sighed. What the hell was wrong with you? “I’ll order pizza. You want the usual?”

She nodded and began hauling everything back to your bedroom.

***

Clint glanced at the time and tapped his fingers on his desk before checking his phone for the third time in ten minutes. He had expected to hear from you after the dress and things were delivered. He was worried you wouldn’t like it. He hadn’t given you enough time to find something else if you didn’t.

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He shouldn’t even be caring. Normally, he wouldn’t. Of course, he also normally didn’t tell the shopper what color of dress he wanted or take the time to pick out the jewels himself. He’d only done it because he didn’t want Wanda thinking he didn’t care about you. She’d seemed pleased so maybe it worked.

Or maybe she was just waiting until his guard was down to tell him he was a dirty old man for lusting after her best friend. It was a conversation he tried to have with himself more than once, but it wasn’t working. The chemistry between the two of you was too intense for him to care. He shifted in his seat as he remembered the last time he’d seen you. Work had kept him busy the last couple of days, though the two of you had still managed to text often.

Finally unable to take the suspense any longer, he sent you a text. _Does everything meet expectations?_

You responded almost immediately. _It’s Wanda. I took her phone. She kept wanting to send you pictures._

He chuckled. _And?_

_No pictures. She says everything is lovely and thank you._

That didn’t sound like you at all. He pursed his lips and wondered what his daughter was up to. _Really?_

_No she says you spent too much. Must go._

Now, that sounded like you. His mouth twisted into a smirk as he imagined how flustered you’d been when you saw everything he’d sent. A glance at the clock had him wondering if you’d even seen the jewelry yet. Knowing Wanda, she’d keep it tucked away until you were ready to walk out the door.

***

“Well,” you asked as you spun for Wanda to take in the entire ensemble. She had managed to make your hair look like you’d spent tons at a salon and made your makeup look dramatic but subtle at the same time. She had a far more deft hand than you’d ever had.

She beamed and you couldn’t help but smile in return. “One more thing.” When she came over, she had a velvet box in her hands. She flipped it open and you gasped.

“Those aren’t real.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact. Because if they were real, there was absolutely no way you could wear them. Not only would it mean Clint had spent entirely too much money on you, but you would need an armed guard to make you feel comfortable in public.

Wanda frowned at them then looked back to you. “They aren’t? Because I’m fairly certain they are.”

You shook your head and took a step back.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped and you immediately stopped moving. Wanda could be scary when she wanted to be. She handed you the box and your hands trembled as you took it from her. “Now, put them on or I will put them on for you.”

You took a deep breath and gave her a nod of compliance. The necklace was an intricate design of diamonds and sapphires. The clear stones formed a vine of leaves that wrapped around your neck dotted with sapphire flowers. The earrings were simple sapphire teardrops. You looked at yourself in the mirror after you’d put them on and your fingers ran across the necklace. It was far more delicate than it had any right to be considering the amount of stones it contained. It was stunning.

That anyone thought you worthy of such a thing had tears coming to your eyes.

“No, no, no,” Wanda scolded behind you. “You will ruin your face.”

You laughed and wiped away the moisture before it could destroy her hard work. Just as you finished, there was a buzz. Your ride had arrived. Wanda buzzed back and let them know you would be right down.

“Come,” she said as she handed you the clutch that contained only your phone, keys and lipstick. After one last look in the mirror, you followed her out. You took the elevator, not caring to risk your neck by taking the stairs in your heels.

 Wanda gave you a hug before heading to her car. Your gaze trailed her until she was safely inside and you turned to the car that was waiting for you. Scott grinned at you when you met his gaze. “You look great, Y/N.”

“Thank you.” A glance inside the car showed it to be empty. “Where’s Clint?”

“He’ll meet you at the venue. One of the company drivers is taking him. He had some work to finish up.”

You nodded and slid into the car, Scott helping you make sure all of your dress was tucked inside with you. A little lump of disappointment settled in the middle of your chest and you did your best to brush it aside. That’s not what this was. You knew that. It was a business arrangement. It was a mantra you needed to learn to repeat often.

You scrolled through your phone, reading over the texts between Wanda and Clint. You smiled then started typing one of your own.

***

Clint ran his hands down the front of his tux making sure everything was in place then straightened his bowtie. He had intended to meet you at your door, but a last minute contract issue had come across his desk that couldn’t wait until Monday. He preferred not to work weekends if it could be avoided.

A knock sounded on his door. “Yeah.”

It swung open to reveal Natasha. She smirked as she looked him over. “Looking sharp as always, Clint.”

He rolled his eyes. “Tell me again why I let you out of this event?”

“Because I send the RSVPs and I didn’t want to go. Besides, you’ve got your new girlfriend to accompany you. You’ll be fine.” Nat used to love to go to things with him. The two of them would hole up somewhere in a corner together and laugh away the night. Lately she’d been attending fewer and fewer.

He blamed Bucky. They’d known each other for years but had only recently started dating. Bucky didn’t do well around people he didn’t know and she was perfectly happy to just stay home with him. As long as she was happy, Clint tried not to complain.

“I actually have a purpose here besides ogling you in your tux. Did you rework the Johnson contract?”

He scowled. Johnson was a long time client who wanted to renegotiate his normal contract at the last minute. He had even threatened to take his business elsewhere if Hawkeye didn’t comply. Where he thought he was going to get merchandise of a comparable quality at the prices they offered, Clint had no idea. “It’s done and sent. I didn’t give him anything he wanted though I did compromise a bit. He either signs it or he doesn’t. I don’t like bullies.”

Nat nodded. “Perfect. That’s all I needed. Have a nice time on your date,” she said with a smirk and a little wave.

He wasn’t even going to bother to take the time to correct her. She only said shit like that to get under his skin. As he walked out of his office, his phone buzzed to let him know he had a text. He pulled it out and smiled when he saw it was from you. _This really is too much._

He chuckled as he stepped onto the elevator. _You’re welcome,_ he sent back.

_Thank you, Clint._

He could almost feel your eyeroll through the screen. A glance at the time told him that you were already on your way to the venue. He didn’t like that you were going to have to mingle on your own for a bit, but he certainly wasn’t going to make you wait for him before you went in. He typed out a quick text letting you know he had gotten caught up and not to wait for him.

_K_

Your one letter response didn’t do much to convince him you would be fine until he got there. Rather than relaying all his fears to you, he slid his phone back into his pocket. He tapped his fingers on his thighs in an effort to keep from pulling it back out. This was fine. You’d be fine. You were too smart to say something you shouldn’t just because he wasn’t around. He’d also seen you shoot down more than one asshole that came on too strong so he knew you could take care of yourself.

It was almost forty-five minutes later before he arrived and a good half hour since Scott had let him know you’d been dropped off safely. Damn it. He straightened his jacket after he climbed out of the back then hurried up the stairs. Once he was inside, his eyes immediately scanned the crowd searching for you. It didn’t take long for his attention to be caught by the vibrant blue of your dress.

His heart sped and he swallowed past the lump in his throat. You were talking to some people he vaguely recognized, your head tilted back as you laughed. God, you looked amazing. He ran his eyes over you again, taking in every inch of exposed skin. The jewels he’d bought you sparkled in the light but they didn’t even come close to holding his attention the way that you did.

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip as he took the opportunity to just watch you for another moment or two.

“I see you’ve spotted her as well,” came a voice from beside him, interrupting him from his litany of impure thoughts.

He glanced over to find Tony Stark standing beside him, offering him a glass of something. Clint took it and turned back to his previous view. He made a sound of agreement but didn’t offer anything more where you were concerned. He sipped at his drink, enjoying the burn that distracted him from some of his more scandalous lines of thought.

“I don’t think I’ve seen her around before and I certainly would have made note of her,” Tony continued.

Clint clenched his teeth together briefly. He darted his gaze quickly to the man beside him before focusing on you once more. “What about Pepper?”

Tony shrugged. “What about her? Just because we’re engaged doesn’t mean I’m dead. I can still look and appreciate you know. And that one is stunning.”

Clint placed his now empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter and fixed his coat once more. “That she is. She’s also mine.” He headed in your direction without registering Tony’s reaction to his announcement.

When he reached you, he placed one hand on your hip and pulled you against his side. You were even more beautiful up close. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You are breathtaking, Y/N.”

You glanced over at him, a radiant smile on your face. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Barton.”


	10. Chapter 10

It didn’t take you long to realize that Clint wasn’t on his game. Besides the fact that he just appeared tired, he was having trouble remembering names of the people the two of you were talking to. Either that or he was mixing them up in his head. It only took a couple of instances for you to take over. You hoped he didn’t mind, but if he did, you guessed you’d hear about it later.

The two of you had just been approached by two couples. You were familiar with them do to your father’s business. In fact, one of them had given you the car you’d just gotten rid of. You plastered on that fake smile that was so practiced by this point in your life. “Mr. Pierce, Mr. Zola. Lovely to see the both of you. It’s been awhile.”

Alexander Pierce smiled at you. He placed his hands on your upper arms and leaned forward to kiss your cheek. He’d always been a little touchy feely for your liking. Him giving you the car when you graduated hadn’t made you any more comfortable with him. “You look incredible,” he said near your ear. You merely maintained your smile as you stepped back.

Clint placed his arm around your waist and tugged you against his side. Pierce’s eyes followed the movement and his smile tightened. “Barton, how the hell are you?” he extended a hand.

Clint’s eyes flashed and he lifted his drink to show his hand was occupied. He didn’t even begin to move the one from her waist. “Pierce.”

The men glowered at one another for a moment until you cleared your throat. You placed a hand on Pierce’s arm to draw his attention. “I’m sorry, but I have completely forgotten the name of your lovely wife.” You hadn’t actually, but the woman looked so damned uncomfortable.

Pierce tried to make his smile look more natural and placed a hand on his wife’s back. “Helen, you remember Y/N. She’s Brock’s daughter.”

You shook her hand though the woman did little but nod. Moving from her, you offered Zola your hand. He shook it as he looked you over with a sneer. He was a slimy little man and you never had liked him.

“This is Gerta,” he said gesturing to the woman with him.

You offered her your hand as well and she frowned at it. Okay, then. Her and Zola were well paired.

“I was surprised to see that you weren’t accompanying your father this evening,” Pierce said, calling your attention back to him.

You frowned as you leaned against Clint’s side. “I don’t see why that would be. He rarely brought me to functions with him.” You hadn’t even known he was attending to be honest. You certainly hadn’t ran into him.

Pierce nodded and pursed his lips. “That’s true, but I was led to believe that would be changing when you moved back home.”

You tilted your head and your lips twitched. “Well, that must explain it because I have no intention of moving back home. If you’ll excuse us, I told Nick I would be sure to bring Clint by to say hi.”

There was a pause before he said, “Of course,” but you were already making your way across the floor.

“You okay?” Clint asked once you were out of earshot.

“If I let Pierce get to me, I would have been in trouble a long time ago.”

He huffed a laugh. “Did you really tell Fury you’d bring me by?” he asked as the two of you approached the rather brusque man.

“Nope, but I want to see him. And you should at least say hi.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Clint muttered. Clint liked Fury well enough but the two seemed to be at odds every time they were in a room together. At least it was better than Fury’s relationship with your father.

You elbowed him lightly and gave him a small smile. “Besides Maria is here. They just got married in April, remember?”

“How could I forget?” His hand squeezed your waist as he spoke. The two of you had danced at the wedding after he begged you saying you were one of the only people there he could stand.

You tilted your head to glance up at him and he merely smirked in return. Sneaky bastard.

Maria noticed you approaching and you smiled widely. She said something to her husband and gestured in your direction. Nick Fury turned, grinning at the sight of you. For some reason yet to be explained by science or magic, Nick Fury loved you and had from the first time he saw you. In fact, as a child it wasn’t unusual for you to call him Uncle Nick.

You greeted him with a hug and as usual, he squeezed harder than necessary. When you grunted, Maria rolled her eyes and shoved him. “It’s my turn.”

He grumbled but dutifully turned you over the woman. She hugged you as well. “We haven’t seen you in ages. How are you?”

“Good,” you answered with no hesitation. When you moved back, she looked to Clint. “Clint. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Maria.” He smiled and shook her hand before offering it to Nick. “Fury. How’s newlywed life?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic, Barton.” His gaze moved between the two of you before settling solely on you. “Your dad said you’re moving home.”

You scowled. “What did he do, make some sort of announcement before I got here?”

Nick laughed. “Just about. He seemed pretty damned proud of himself. Going on about how he let you fail at the art thing so you’d do the smart thing and go to business school.”

“God, he’s such a dick sometimes.” Your hand immediately covered your mouth. “Sorry.” As foul as Nick’s mouth could be, you never got used to speaking that way in front of him.

His expression grew very serious. “Yes, he is.” Then he broke and started laughing again.

“Well, I’m starting art school on Monday. And even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be moving home. It’s not failing if he manipulates everything to make it impossible. He’s always used money to try to control me, he should know better.”

Clint laced his fingers with yours and ran his thumb over the back of your hand. You gave a tight smile. “Sorry. I’m still a bit bitter.”

“I can see that,” Nick said before locking eyes on your hands. He looked up to meet Clint’s gaze. “You have anything to do with her going to art school and not having to move home?”  

“I’d like to think so.” Clint licked his lips.

“He has everything to do with it,” you corrected. The circumstances may not be normal and Nick would probably kill Clint if he knew the truth of your relationship, but you believed in giving credit where it was due.

“And everything else?” Nick asked.

“Don’t interrogate the girl,” Maria told him, shooting you an apologetic grin.

“It’s fine, Maria. It’s all him,” you said answering his question. Clint looked confused as hell, but you knew exactly what he was referring to. You didn’t go to events like this. You stayed home and avoided people because your father always either treated you like a prize or burden and you could never be sure which it would be.

On the few occasions you had attended, usually at Nick’s insistence, you stayed to yourself. You certainly didn’t dress like this and you didn’t seek people out to talk with. With Clint you could be the you that you wanted to be.

The corner of Nick’s mouth kicked up in a grin. “I got your proposal last month, Barton. Let’s talk about it.”

Clint’s eyes went wide. “I’d love to.”

Nick motioned to a nearby table.

“Now?” Clint glanced to you for some guidance.

“Business doesn’t wait,” you said in unison with Nick, earning a laugh from him and his wife.

“Come on, Y/N.” Maria linked her arm with yours. “Let’s go get a drink.”

Maria and you sat at one of the tables and chatted. Neither of the men was likely to let the discussion go on too long, but they’d at least get a few points hammered out. Now that you were aware of his presence, you’d seen your father more than once. Every time you met his gaze, he’d turn away. Coward. He could tell everyone else he had control of you, but couldn’t face you when he knew you’d heard what he’d said.

“You still with me, Y/N?” Concern tinged Maria’s voice.

You laid a hand on hers. “I’m fine. I just need some air. Tell Clint I’ll be right back if they finish before I return, would you?”

“Of course.” Worry was still evident in her gaze but she knew you well enough to not try to stop you.

You’d expected to drown in humidity when you walked outside, but surprisingly the breeze had picked up and it felt quite nice. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. This was just what you needed.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?”

The voice instantly brought back all the tension you’d just gotten rid of. You turned and gave your father a tight smile. “Hello.”

His hand flexed around the glass he held. “You get Barton to bring you here so you could beg for money again? Should have known you’d be staying with that brat of his.” He licked his lips before taking a long swallow of the liquor in his glass.

You clenched your teeth together to keep from going off on a tirade. If it was only your reputation at stake, you might have done it anyway, but Clint didn’t deserve it. “First off, I have never and will never beg for anything. I asked you for a loan. And because you are a selfish bastard, you turned me down.”

He scoffed. “Selfish? After everything I’ve done for you?”

You ignored him. “And Wanda is not a brat.” You didn’t bother to tell him you had your own apartment. If he knew, he’d try to find you. You were happier with him not knowing where you lived. “I suggest next time you want to tell your friends that I’m running home with my tail between my legs, don’t. It’ll be much less embarrassing for you.”

At this point, you just wanted to get back inside to Clint. Brock grabbed your arm as you tried to pass by him to the door. “Let go of me,” you ordered.

“We’re going to have a conversation, you and I.”

He twisted his grip on your arm startling a yelp out of you. Damn it, that hurt. He pushed you back before he released your arm. He shifted a bit so he now stood between you and the door. “Why are you here with Clint Barton?”

“Guess.” You rubbed your sore arm.

“You’re fucking him? Are you serious?” His lip curled in disgust. “No wonder you don’t need dear old dad anymore. You’ve got another bank account to dip into.”

“Oh, fuck you and your money. You’re drunk. Go home and sleep it off.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Y/N. If I want to talk to you about Barton, that’s my right. I’m your father.” He slammed his glass down on a nearby table and you winced. You had thought it was going to break.

You sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm the nerves that fluttered in your belly. “Whatever my relationship with Clint Barton might be, it is none of your fucking business.”

He stepped forward and grabbed your face in his hand. He squeezed, making your lips puff out. “Watch your mouth.”

You jerked your head to the side and away from his grip. “You should discuss it with Nick. I’m sure he’d love to hear your opinion on the subject.”

“Fuck Nick.”

“I don’t think you’re his type.”

Brock stepped toward you again making you flinch away. He pointed at you, his fingers less than inch from your face. “You listen to me, little girl. You end whatever this is with Barton and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you come back home.”

“As tempting as that offer is, I’m afraid she’s going to have to pass.” Your gaze shifted from your father to the man that now stood behind him. You’d never met him but he was easy enough to recognize. Tony Stark. His wife, Pepper stood beside him with an angry scowl you were pretty certain was directed at your father.

“What the hell are you doing here, Stark? This doesn’t concern you.”

“I’m afraid it does, actually.” He turned his attention to you. “You okay?”

You nodded and swallowed past the lump in your throat as you tried not to cry. Pepper reached out and took your hand before tugging you to her side. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you leaned into the embrace.

Brock looked at the three of you then shook his head. “We’re not done with this discussion, Y/N.” He walked away without a single glance back.

You cleared your throat as he left. “Thank you,” you told your rescuers.

Tony smiled at you. “Any friend of Clint’s and all that.” His gaze sharpened. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I just need a minute to get myself back together. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

He glanced from you to Pepper. “Why don’t you stay here with the missus and I’ll go get Clint.”

“Please don’t. I don’t want to ruin his evening.”

Tony laughed. “Honey, if I know Clint, and I do, he was ready to leave about five minutes after he got here.”

***

Clint ran his eyes over the crowd again looking for you. He and Fury had finished talking a while ago and Maria had told him that you would be right back. He had yet to see any sign of you. He hoped to God you didn’t leave him here. A hand on his shoulder startled him and he turned to find Tony standing behind him. His friend didn’t look happy.

Clint frowned. “What’s going on, Tony?”

“Rumlow had your girl cornered outside. I ran him off. I think she’s pretty shook up though she won’t admit it.”

“Damn it. That son of a bitch.” Clint sighed in annoyance. “Where is she?”

“I left her in the hall with Pepper.”

“Thanks.” Clint hurried in the direction Tony indicated. Only when his eyes landed on you did he feel any sense of calm. He placed his hands on your upper arms and ran his gaze over you looking for any sign of injury. You winced when he gripped you and his gaze narrowed.

“Later,” you told him.

He clenched his teeth and worked a muscle in his jaw. “Are you okay?”

You nodded.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. He kissed the top of your head and pulled out his phone to send Scott a text. When he finished, he glanced at Pepper. “Thank you. And tell Tony, thanks again, would you?”

“Of course.” She laid a hand on Y/N’s arm. “I’m glad I got to meet you regardless of the circumstances.”

“You, too. Thank you for everything.”

With one last smile, Pepper left them and went to find her husband.

“Let’s get you home,” Clint said and kissed your head again.

You pulled away from him. “We don’t have to leave. I’ll be fine. Please don’t end your night on my account.”

Clint chuckled before pulling you back into his chest. You sighed and settled against him, bringing a smile to his face. “Sweetheart, trust me, it’s just fine. Now, let’s get the hell out of here and you can tell me what happened.”  


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter because cutting it at the next best spot made this chapter hella long. sorry. Promise the next chapter will make up for it.

The car was on its way to your apartment and you were nestled into Clint’s side with his arm around your shoulders before he spoke. “What happened with Rumlow?”

You tensed and sucked in a breath. “I’d rather not discuss it, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Normally I’d give you that, but not when you wince under my touch. Did he hurt you?” Clint’s voice was cold steel.

You turned your head further into his chest. “He grabbed my arm to get my attention that’s all.”

His thumb rubbed the bare skin on your arm. “If that’s all, why won’t you look at me? Talk to me, Y/N.”

You shifted your position so you could look up at him. “It was just another shitty fight in a long line of them. I don’t want to talk about him anymore. Please.”

He sighed. “Fine. For now.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you laid on his shoulder again. “Thank you for tonight. You were a life saver.”

“That’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?” You chuckled.

He huffed a laugh. “No. Today was a long day. I was exhausted before I got to the damn party. You stepped up and took over the social part and I just sailed along with you. I can’t tell you what a relief that was. Never mind Fury talking to me about that proposal I sent over months ago. I figured he’d chucked it in the trash ages ago.”

“Nick never throws anything away. It’s sad really. If Maria hadn’t brought him into the digital age, he’d probably be buried under mounds of paperwork.” Suddenly feeling fatigued yourself, you wrapped your arms around him and nestled into his chest as you yawned.

“Go to sleep, beautiful. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

You nodded but didn’t go to sleep. Instead you just stayed silent and enjoyed the feeling of being held. You should have told Clint about the fight with your father, but the truth was you were embarrassed. His behavior had long ago ceased to surprise you, but that didn’t mean you were okay with it. He expected obedience and you didn’t fall in line, he got pissed.

Realizing you were nearing your apartment, you sat up. Clint glanced over and gave you that cockeyed smile of his. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“Just resting.”

He nodded and you couldn’t help but note how exhausted he was. His lids were heavy and shadows marred the skin beneath his eyes.

When you arrived at your place, he climbed out of the car and helped you out. You hugged him, resting against his chest. Sucking in a deep breath you gathered your courage. You took a step back but took his hands in yours. “Stay with me.”

His brows shot up and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

He just watched you without saying anything.

You took a step toward the door, tugging him after you. “Come on, Clint. It will be fine. You’re exhausted and have a half hour before you’re home. You don’t work tomorrow. Just stay here and let me take care of you.”

He released your hands and turned back to the car. You couldn’t help the little knot of disappointment that formed in your chest. He didn’t even say goodbye.

“I’ll let you know when I need you. Sleep in,” you heard Clint say just before he shut the door to the car. He grabbed one of your hands in his and smiled at you. “Well, let’s go, beautiful.”

You pulled him along behind you and onto the elevator. He leaned against the wall and it was evident he was staying awake by willpower alone at this point. You stretched to place a kiss on his cheek. He looked at you in surprise. “What was that for?”

You shrugged and stepped out as the elevator arrived on your floor. You pulled your keys out of your bag as you walked down the hall. “You can have the bed. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch. It’s your apartment really anyway.” You weren’t even really paying attention to what you were saying. It was just nervous rambling.

“Woah,” he said and turned you away from where you were unlocking the door.

You stared in surprise.

“You stay in the bed with me or I call Scott right now to come back and get me. Non-negotiable,” he ordered.

You nodded. “Okay.” Once you’d let the two of you into the apartment, you noticed he was taking in the change in the apartment now that the furniture had been delivered. You gave him a little shove in the direction of the bedroom. “You are barely staying upright. You can look tomorrow.”

He chuckled. “Yes, dear.” As soon as he entered the bedroom, he started undressing.

You turned your back to him and focused on taking off the beautiful jewelry he’d given you. You resisted the urge to thank him again. The earrings came off easy enough but you were having trouble with the clasp of the necklace. Warm hands brushed yours aside.

“Let me.”

You found yourself holding your breath as his fingers brushed against your neck. Finally, the clasp came undone and he pulled the necklace from your neck, holding it in front of you. He was pressed far closer to your back than necessary and you couldn’t help but lean into him. His head dropped down and he pressed a gentle kiss along the curve of your neck. Your breath shuddered as you sucked in much needed air and tilted your head to the side to give him better access. Another kiss followed the first and his hands ran across your belly to pull you more firmly against him.

Your hands rested on his briefly before you gave them a squeeze. “Could you unzip me so I can change?”

“Of course.” He stepped back and slid the zipper down.

You kept one hand pressed to your chest to keep the dress in place and moved to your closet. You hung up the dress, well aware of Clint’s gaze on your back. You grabbed one of your oversized t-shirts and slid it on before heading into the bathroom. By the time your returned from taking care of your hair and brushing your teeth, he was asleep.

You watched him for a moment with a smile on your face. He looked so peaceful, relaxed and you were glad you could give him a bit of that. You’d meant what you’d said earlier when you told him you wanted to take care of him. Someone should. You hadn’t been able to get what Wanda had told you about Laura out of your head. Did he really think no one could love him without the money being involved? Just the thought broke your heart because you were certain you were more than half in love with him already.

You sighed and flipped off the light before crawling in beside him. You snuggled against his side and he immediately shifted position to pull you into his arms so you could lay your head on his chest. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he muttered sleepily and kissed your head.

“Goodnight, Clint.” You matched your breathing to his and followed him into sleep moments later.  


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pure smut. If this bothers you or you know you shouldn't be reading this, skip to the next chapter. Depictions of mutual masturbation, dirty talk, naked people, cum and a defiled sofa.

If your dreams were any indication, sleeping next to Clint was bad for the control you had on your libido. Images of hot hands and hungry mouths filled your brain. You’d woken several times throughout the night only to find yourself in Clint’s embrace each time. Comforted by his presence, you went right back to sleep.

When you woke in a tangle of sheets in the early hours of the morning, however, you were alone. You reached out to find his side of the bed still warm. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, you ran a hand down your face trying to chase off some of the exhaustion. You padded through your apartment and found Clint in the living room looking out the window into the dark.

“What are you doing?” you asked softly.

He turned, his brows arched up in surprise. “Did I wake you?”

You shook your head and shuffled over to wrap your arms around him. He chuckled as you pressed into his side and returned your embrace. “I keep waking up. This time you were gone so I came looking.”

“Something wrong?”

You smiled at the concerned tone in his voice. “Just not used to sleeping next to someone I guess.”

He chuckled and you tilted your head to find him smiling down at you. “Well, can’t say I’m disappointed to hear that.”.

You yawned even as you shook your head.

Clint hummed. “I think maybe you need to relax a little, sweetheart. What do you think?”

You were pretty sure that you already were relaxed but you shrugged. He wasn’t really the best person to help you get him off your mind but you were open to suggestions. Clint shifted you in his hold so one arm was wrapped around you with his hand splayed on your lower back to keep you close to him. His other hand cradled your cheek briefly before he slid his fingers through your hair and pulled you into his kiss.

His lips danced over yours. You arched your back trying to get closer, needing more from him. Craving more after your night full of heated dreams. As if he read your mind, Clint deepened the kiss and traced your lip with his tongue. You gasped at the feeling and he took advantage of the moment to sweep his tongue into your mouth. Your tongue mingled with his as your hands found the back of his head. Your fingers dug into his hair and tugged.

He moaned making you grin against his lips. Pulling back slightly, he grinned at you. “Oh, you think that’s funny? How about this?” His hand slid from your back to trace the curve of your ass. The heat from his palm felt like a fire through the thin cotton of your panties. He moved slow, deliberate until he squeezed without warning. He used his hold to pull you more tightly against him and rolled his hips into yours.

There was no mistaking his arousal as he still wore only the boxers he’d gone to bed in. The feel of his hard cock pressing against your core reminded you just how long it had been since you’d had actual sex with anyone. Damn. He covered your lips with his again and fed at them like he was starving. He grew impossibly harder which made you become even more aroused. Between your dreams and Clint your panties were sopping.

Panting, you pulled back slightly trying to catch your breath. Your tongue darted out to trace your bottom lip and his eyes followed the movement. Unsure what to say or do, you bit your lip. Clint made a sound that was almost a growl and backed you toward the sofa. He steered you to the end with the chaise lounge. When the back of your legs hit it, he stopped you. His hands lifted the bottom of your shirt as his eyes asked for permission. Biting your lip again, you nodded.

He swept the fabric up and off before tossing it aside. He licked his lips as his gaze ran over you. The fact that he wasn’t saying anything had your nerves working overtime but you resisted the urge to cross your arms over your chest. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

His compliment had your face heating. You’d seen some of the women that he’d been with and didn’t think you compared but if his tone was any indication, you were the most beautiful thing Clint Barton had ever seen. At least he made you feel that way and that’s what mattered. His fingers hooked into the band of your underwear and he tugged them down. “I want to see all of you.”

After he disposed of your last scrap of clothing, he grinned up at you from his crouched position. You didn’t think he’d ever looked hotter. His hands traced up the sides of your legs as he straightened. When they got to your waist, he directed you to lay down on the chaise. He stood beside you, just running his eyes over you. “I’m not certain what I’ve done to deserve this moment, but thank fuck.”

“You are overdressed, Mr. Barton.”

He smirked and hummed in agreement. “So, I am.” In one quick movement, he disposed of his boxers, leaving him bare to your gaze. He was thick, hard and all yours. You licked your lips again in anticipation. He knelt on the seat as he lowered himself to lay beside you. You turned on your side so your back was pressed against the armrest and he laid facing you. His fingers lightly traced along your skin as though he was intent on feeling every inch of you. A trail of heat followed in his wake until you swore your skin was on fire.

Your hands weren’t idle either as you ran your palms over his chest and across his back. The only thing that interrupted your exploration was the kisses you stole from each other. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore teasing, Clint ran his hand down over your belly. This time he didn’t stop as he had done previously. His hand cupped your mound and two of his fingers dipped into your entrance. You hissed and arched your back. Fuck.

“Jesus, sweetheart. You are soaked. Is that all for me?”

You nodded and hummed in agreement. “Been dreaming about you all night,” you managed to force out as his fingers continued to play in your folds.

“Oh, beautiful. You should have woke me. I could have put you out of your misery much sooner.” His fingers curled and you gasped at the sensation. He chuckled and repeated the motion.

Determined to even the playing field a bit, you wrapped your hand around his cock. Clint hissed and tilted his head back. As you worked your hand over his length, you were amazed at the warmth of him and the smooth, silky feel of his skin beneath your palm. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the line of his neck. He groaned before kissing you again. His fingers continued to dance inside you and it wasn’t long until you had that feeling in your belly that you were missing something important. That you were chasing after something elusive.

His hips began to buck in time with your movements and you knew he couldn’t be that far off either. His mouth trailed away from yours as he licked and kissed a trail down the side of your neck. He slid down slightly so you could still maintain your grip but he could lavish attention on your breasts. You’d never been one that got overly excited when a guy played with your boobs but you didn’t mind it either. However, when Clint sucked one nipple into the hot moistness of his mouth at the same time he brushed that place inside of you again, your back arched more than you’d thought possible. The volume of your accompanying groan would have embarrassed you had you not been so lost in a sea of bliss.

Clint changed the position of his hand so quickly, his thumb was on your clit before you could even register the movement. “Oh fuck,” you breathed out. You tried to maintain enough focus to continue to jerk him off, but your movements became irregular. His fingers working inside of you and his thumb working on top were pulling you ever nearer to the cliff. You were balanced perfectly on the edge needing only the slightest nudge to fall.

When Clint raked his teeth over your nipple that was it. Your orgasm flooded through you in wave of pure bliss. You trembled and jerked as he kept his fingers moving, determined to draw out your pleasure. Your hand still wrapped around him, jerked with you. “Fuck, Clint. Oh my god. That feels so good. Don’t stop. Fuck me.” The words came out in a stream as you shuddered.

Finally he pulled his fingers from you, giving you a chance to breathe. His hand wrapped around yours and guided your movement on his cock as he hissed. “Oh shit. Fuck. Just like that. Just like that. Oh, god.” He jerked in your hand and cum covered both of your stomachs. You continued to pump him until he was drained. Locking gazes with him you lifted your fingers to your mouth and cleaned his cum from them with your tongue.

“Holy shit,” he whispered and he sounded so in awe, you couldn’t help but laugh. He rolled onto his back and reached for something on the floor. When he returned he had his boxers in his hand and used them to wipe down the two of you. Your eyes just followed his movements as you enjoyed the satiated feeling that had descended on you. Once he was satisfied that the two of you were clean enough, he tossed them over his shoulder so they were back on the floor.

He laid his hand on your waist and kissed you. This time it was soft and gentle and, dare you say, almost loving. You gasped in surprise as he grabbed you and rolled the two of you so he was now laying on the chaise with you sprawled across the top of him. You felt so comfortable and relaxed you didn’t even try to stop the yawn that came.

Clint’s chest moved beneath you as he chuckled. Your eyes began to grow heavy. He was just so damned comfortable. Soon, you were covered with the soft blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head, much as he had done when the two of you went to sleep earlier. “Sleep, Y/N. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Your brow furrowed but you kept your eyes shut. What exactly did he think the two of you needed to talk about?


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters a bit short but this was the best place to cut it.

You were the first to wake in the morning, Clint’s warm body beneath you instantly reminding of the night before. You smiled and tilted your head back to look up at him. His messy hair and light stubble only made him more attractive. Not fair. You would like nothing better than to lay where you were for the rest of the day. Or maybe snuggle in closer to him and bask in his warmth. Or even better would be to talk him into moving into the bedroom and staying there for a week.

The thought had you grinning as you eased out from under the blanket. Amazingly, the movement didn’t wake him. You snatched your clothes from the floor and slipped back into your underwear and oversized shirt. You looked over your shoulder at your lover one more time before ducking out of sight into the kitchen.

 Your immediate focus was on getting the coffee started, not only for yourself but Clint did not function without his morning dose of caffeine. That was apparent from the first time you spent the night at their house and ran into zombie Barton the next morning. Once you had the pot brewing, you pulled two of your favorite large mugs from the cabinet.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up, the next task for you to tackle was breakfast. You hadn’t picked up much in the way of groceries yet, but you had eggs, ham and cheese. Once you’d cracked all the eggs you glanced at the sofa to find Clint still sleeping but he’d shifted his position. It wouldn’t be long until he woke.

You let out a long breath and turned your attention back to preparing the eggs. Wanda’s words echoed in your head. Be happy but not too happy and don’t let him know you’re crazy for him. Play it cool. Sure. You could do that. No problem.

***

Clint felt your absence immediately. In fact, he was fairly certain that was what had awakened him in the first place. He wiped a hand down his face before taking a deep breath. His attention shifted from you to coffee in an instant as he inhaled the rich aroma. He’d need all the caffeine he could get to make it through the conversation the two of you needed to have.

He swung his legs off the couch and sat up. He raked his hands through his hair before linking his hands together behind his neck. Images of the night before ran through his head. God, you were so responsive. He’d known you would be but damn. And as soon as two of you had finished, he’d known it was a mistake.

Not necessarily the act itself, but there should have been a discussion beforehand. A restating of the terms so to speak. He never let himself get carried away like that. Not without assuring himself that the other party understood this changed nothing. And on top of everything else, you were so young. Which meant you were more likely to take the events of the night before as some sort of declaration.

He huffed out a long breath. He liked what the two of you had. It felt natural, easy. It would be a shame if it had to end so soon. So he simply needed to find a way to make sure that you understood that last night changed nothing.

“You shouldn’t look so serious before you’ve had your coffee, Clint. Give your brain a chance to kick in.”

His head jerked up with the words. You stood before him, one brow arched and a smirk on your face. He took the mug you offered him as his eyes darted the down the length of you. You wore the long t-shirt you’d had on the night before leaving the length of your legs exposed. He pulled more of the blanket into his lap to make sure he was covered then took a sip of his coffee.

He sighed and closed his eyes. as the hot liquid ran down his throat. You always had made a great cup of coffee. When he opened his eyes, you were already gone. He frowned. You reappeared moments later, clothes in hand and tossed them next to him on the couch.

“Thought you might want something to wear besides your tux. Your boxers are a bit of a mess.” You crinkled your nose as you said the last and he smiled.

“Thanks,” he grunted and lifted his mug slightly.

You nodded then turned to disappear back into the kitchen. “Breakfast will be done in two shakes.”

He sat his mug on the table and grabbed the clothes you’d brought him. A quick inspection showed an oversized t-shirt similar to the one you wore and a pair of pajama pants. Men’s pajama pants. He frowned and slid them on. Snatching his coffee up from the table, he wandered over to lean in the doorway. His eyes followed you as you dished up plates of scrambled eggs for the both of you.

He was seeing none of what he’d expected. Despite his fears to the contrary you hadn’t turned into an overly clingy, besotted female overnight. In fact, he’d be hard pressed to find anything out of the norm in your behavior. He smiled. Maybe this would work after all.  

“Where’d you get the pants?” he couldn’t help but ask. He took another sip of his coffee as he waited for you to answer.

You glanced at him as you carried the plates to your little table and sat them down. There was that smirk and arched brow again. “They’re mine.”

He put his mug on the table and sat in one of the seats. “Yours?” His brows lifted “Seems as though they’d be a bit big for you, sweetheart. And they aren’t exactly feminine if you catch my drift.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were jealous, Clint Barton.” You kept your eyes on your plate as you answered and ate your food. “In case you didn’t notice, I like my sleep clothes loose. And I like pockets in my pants. Everyone thinks women don’t like pockets. Why is that?” You pointed your fork at him as if he should have all the answers.

He chuckled and began to eat his own breakfast. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

After a few minutes of silence passed, you spoke up again. “So what was it you wanted to talk about?”

Clint leaned back in his chair and hummed in thought. Finally, he shook his head once. “I seem to have forgotten. Guess it wasn’t that important.”


	14. Chapter 14

It was several hours later before Clint even mentioned heading home. The two of you had been cuddled on the couch watching the enormous television he’d insisted on getting. You had to admit it was nice being able to see everything on the screen clearly.

Clint yawned. “I supposed I should think about heading home at some point in my life.”

“If you must.” You tilted your head back to look at him with a faux pout.

He chuckled and patted your arm to get you to lean forward. After he sat up, he grabbed his phone and sent a couple of texts. Once he received a response, he tossed it back on the table. “Scott will be here in a bit.”

“I already got your tux together. It’s hanging in my closet.”

“Perfect. I assume you don’t mind if I borrow your clothes.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “But those are my favoritest favorite clothes ever, Mr. Barton.”

He narrowed his eyes with a growl and captured your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His kiss was quick and hard. He got to his feet when it was finished. “Behave.”

You gave him what you hoped was an innocent smile, but knowing you, you failed miserably. He disappeared and returned carrying his tux and wearing his dress shoes with your pajamas. It was quite the look. “Stay there,” you told him.

It only took you a second to retrieve your camera and snap a couple of pictures before he could protest.

“And what do you intend to do with those?”

“I’m selling them to TMZ, Clint. What do you think I’m doing with them?”

He just looked at you and you rolled your eyes.

“Do you realize the pictures I could have sold over the years? They’d put this one to shame that’s for sure.” You placed your camera on the kitchen counter. “Do you have everything?”

He laid his tux across the back of the couch before grabbing his phone and slipping it into his pocket. “I think that does it.” He made a show of looking you over. “You should probably at least put on pants if you’re coming with me.”

“What?” He’d never even suggested that he wanted you to go with him.

He shrugged. “I mean you don’t have to, but I thought you might want to swim. And Wanda’s coming over for dinner.”

Honestly, a swim sounded heavenly. You couldn’t even remember the last time you used the pool. And seeing Wanda sounded even better. “You could have just said swim and left it at that,” you told him and headed down the hall for your room. You slipped into a comfortable outfit with sandals and grabbed your purse. Not that you’d probably need it for anything, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Got your suit?” Clint asked as you stepped back into the room.

“I think I’ve got like three at your house. It’s literally the only place I swim.”

He gave one of his half smirks. “Oh yeah. Does that include that blue thing with the bows on the sides?” He licked his lips as he ran his gaze over you.

“Really, Clint?”

“What? A man can hope, can’t he?”

***  

You sat at the counter watching Clint cook. You’d offered to help but he’d turned you down flat. Apparently, Wanda wanted his BLTs for dinner and you weren’t about to complain. This man made the best sandwiches you ever ate in your life. You sipped at a beer while you watched him move around the kitchen. Occasionally he shot a smirk in your direction causing your face to heat.

The kitchen door opened and closed with a bang. “Honey, I’m home,” Wanda yelled as she made her dramatic entrance.

You chuckled as she threw her arms around your neck to give you a hug. “Love you, too, Wanda,” you said as you returned the embrace.

She immediately took the seat beside you. “Are you ready for classes to start? What are you taking again?”

Clint cleared his throat causing the two of you to look at him. “What am I? Chopped liver?” He held his arms out wanting his own hug from his daughter.

Your lips twitched and you took another sip of your beer to hide your smirk. Acting greatly put upon, Wanda moved around the counter and hugged her dad. “It’s not cool to hug your dad at my age. Seriously.” That had you laughing. Wanda had never turned down a hug from her dad in her life. Even in front of your entire school.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said as he hugged her tightly. “Besides, Y/N hugs me.”

“Dad,” she groaned and shoved him lightly. “Really?”

You buried your face in your hands while the two of them laughed at you.

Clint took mercy on you announcing the food was ready. Since he had two plates in hand, you grabbed his beer from the other side of the counter and sat it at his place. He smiled in thanks and handed you the extra plate. Realizing you’d forgotten to put the deli mustard on the table that both Clint and Wanda liked, you got up and grabbed it from the fridge. You sat it on the table and grabbed Clint’s sandwich to add it while he and Wanda talked about school.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said absently as you placed his plate back in front of him. His hand found your thigh under the table and patted it before his attention shifted to his food.

Wanda’s gaze moved between the two of you. A soft smile lit her face and when she made eye contact with you she waggled her brows. You rolled your eyes and pointed to her plate telling her to eat.

***

Wanda stayed long enough to play a round of cards after dinner. She won, of course; she always did. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear she could read minds.  Clint walked her out to her car and you started cleaning the kitchen. Granted there wasn’t much to clean, but you’d rather get it done now.

You were drying the pan he’d used for the bacon when arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. You tilted your head to allow him more access and he took full advantage. You sat the pan on the counter and turned in his arms with a grin. “Hello to you, too.”

He returned your grin and tilted his head toward stairway. “How about that swim?”

You bounced on your feet. “Yes, please.”

He chuckled and pushed you in the direction of the stairs. “I’ll meet you there.”

He headed up to his room while you went down to the pool. You left your suits in a little room off to the side as it was so much more convenient. It also kept you from having to move through the airconditioned house in your suit. The heated pool was an indoor/outdoor and Clint kept the pool room warmer than the rest of the house so people didn’t get chilled when they got out of the water.

You grabbed the blue suit that he had mentioned earlier but then your eye fell on the black one Wanda had forced you to buy the last time you’d gone shopping together. You held it up and grinned. It was a one piece, if you could call it that with it’s plunging neckline and laced sides. At the time you’d thought it far too revealing. But now it was just about perfect.

When you left the changing room, Clint’s lean body was already slicing through the water as he swam the length of the pool. You watched until he finished his laps and brought his head up. His gaze fell on you and gave you a smile which faded as his eyes ran over you from head to toe. He swiped his hands down his face, wiping away the water and took another look. His tongue darted out to lick his lips.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t remember that one.”

You glanced down before looking back at him with wide eyes. “Don’t you like it? I could always change.”

“Don’t you dare.”

You smirked and walked over to sit on the edge of the pool. You’d barely had time to settle when Clint wrapped his hands around your waist and lifted you into the water. You placed your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself steady. His fingers instantly found the holes made by the laces on the sides of your suit and rubbed gently over your skin. He leaned forward to kiss you. You were so caught up in him, it took you a couple of minutes to realize he was slowly walking the two the length of the pool.

You ducked under the divider that split the pool between inside and outside. Clint grasped your hand and tugged you to the far end. He sat on a bench along the wall of the pool and turned you before pulling you against him. A nudge at your chin had you looking up at a sky full of stars. You gasped at the sight and the cool air that caressed your shoulders. You lowered yourself into the water a bit more and leaned against Clint’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you and the two of you sat in silence enjoying the night together.

A yawn had you settling more firmly against Clint. He ran his hand across your belly and under the edge of the opening in the front of your suit. There was nothing sensual in the movement, more just him trying to touch more skin. You turned in his lap and laid your head on his chest. “I should go before I get any more tired.”

He hummed. “Or you could just stay here.”

You looked at him in surprise and he smiled at you.

“It’s not like you don’t have your own room here.”

It was true, you did. The guest room beside Wanda’s had long ago been designated as yours. It even held extra clothes and things you’d left behind on one of your many overnights. Disappointment settled in your chest however that that’s what he’d meant.

He chuckled and squeezed your hip. “Do you really think I’d get any sleep with you down the hall? I don’t think so, beautiful. You’re still welcome to stay but only if you stay in my bed.”

“That sounds like a much better idea, Mr. Barton.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut. skip if it bothers you.

Sunday night found you back at home and unable to sleep. You had assumed after the intimacy the two of you shared on Friday night that your relationship with Clint had moved to another level. A level where you were going to get laid. A level you needed, truth be told. You slept in Clint’s bed Saturday night but the two of you did nothing more than cuddle. And while you spent most of the day with him, nothing was exchanged beyond heated kisses. You just might go crazy if he kept this up. It was evident you were going to have to take matters into your own hands. As you came up with a plan to do just that, you finally drifted to sleep.

It was mid-morning when you sent Clint a text. _No class today. Can I bring you lunch?_

You tapped the back of the phone with your finger while you waited for a response. Finally, the phone buzzed.

_I think I’m stuck here for the duration so that would be great. Noonish?_

_See you then._

After sending a text to Scott asking him to pick you up, you hurried to finish getting ready. Everything needed to be perfect if you were going to have the nerve to even attempt to pull this off.

By the time your ride arrived, you were dressed in your very best business attire. The dark skirt stopped just above the knee. You’d paired it with a white blouse and the jacket that matched the skirt. Your heels bore the signature red sole that matched your lipstick perfectly. You’d even taken the time to do more with your hair than you normally did. You grabbed the lunch you’d made for the two of you and hurried down the stairs.

Scott waited beside the car and a smile lit his face when he saw you. His gaze ran over you and the grin widened. “Clint know you’re wearing that?”

You glanced down as if you were unaware of how you were dressed before looking up with wide eyes. “No. Why?”

Scott chuckled. “No reason at all,” he answered but his tone said he knew exactly what you were up to.

During the drive, you tapped your foot on the floor as if that would make the trip shorter. When you finally arrived outside Clint’s office, you ran your hand over skirt and tugged on the bottom of your jacket to make sure everything was in place before stepping up to Wade’s desk.

He glanced up with a tight smile and blinked several times. “Yes?”

You arched a brow. “Don’t start that shit with me, Will Wadeson. You know who I am and you also know that I’m expected.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Did you just—”

“Yes. I did.”

Keeping his eyes on you, he reached over and picked up the phone. “Lunch date’s here, Boss.” He hung up and laced his fingers together on the desktop. “I like you.”

“I’m honored.”

“You should be. Boss’ll see you now.”

“Thanks.” You grinned and let yourself in the office, shutting the door behind you.

“Hey,” Clint said absently, his head still bowed over the papers on his desk. “I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

You tilted your head and took the opportunity to look him over. He’d taken off his jacket and draped it over the back of one of the other chairs. His shoulders were tight beneath the fabric of his shirt and he looked exhausted.  

You put the bag with the food in it on the coffee table as you walked by. His attention stayed on his work even as you rounded his desk and came up behind him. Your hands immediately found tense muscles and began to rub the knots from them.

Clint groaned and dropped his head forward to rest in his hands.

“What’s got you so tied up, handsome?

“Nothing you need to worry about. I just came into a mess is all. It happens. Fortunately, not very often.”

You hummed in agreement and continued with your mini-massage. When his muscles felt looser, you ran your hands over his shoulders and across his chest. You laid your mouth next to his ear. “Hungry?”

# ***

The sultry tone of your voice had Clint turning his head to meet your gaze. You gave him a half-smile with bright red lips. The color drew him in and he found himself unable to tear his eyes from your smile. He cleared his throat. “I suppose that depends on what you brought for lunch.”

Your grin widened and you stepped back. He turned his chair to follow you but froze as he took you in. His gaze darted over you from head to toe and back up. If someone had asked him half an hour ago if business attire did anything for him, he would have said no. But you in a skirt and jacket with three-inch heels? Holy shit. Combine that with the red lip and smoky eye and he was a goner apparently. Who knew?

His hands gripped the arms of his chair. It was the only thing keeping him from grabbing you and pulling you into his lap. He was a grown man, damn it, but you never failed to make him feel like a horny school boy. If he’d had any idea you would be such a temptress, he would have made this arrangement ages ago. He licked his lips. “Nice outfit.”

You dug the toe of your shoe into the carpet and twisted your foot while you twirled a strand of hair around your finger. “Do you think so, Mr. Barton? I wore it just for you.”

“Little minx.” You knew exactly what calling him that did to him and you used it to your full advantage. You bit the tip of your finger and widened your eyes in an attempt to look innocent. You failed miserably. He arched a brow and waited to see what your next move would be.

You stepped toward him, swinging your hips as you came. Stopping in front of him, you reached out to tug at his tie and use it to pull him to your lips. “You seem very stressed, Mr. Barton. I’d like to help you with that.”

He said not a word afraid he’d break the spell that seemed to fallen over the two of you.

You pulled your skirt up just enough to allow you more mobility before dropping to your knees. As you reached for his belt, his hands stopped you. You glanced up and he studied you. “You don’t have to do this.”

You brushed his hands aside. “If I felt like I had to, I wouldn’t do it.” A few deft movements of your hands and you had freed him from his pants. You tongue traced your lips as you moved your hand along the length of him.

Clint’s head dropped back as he groaned. Part of him felt like he should argue, try to convince you not to do this. The rest of him needed this on a level he couldn’t explain. Half the tension in his shoulders had been a result of him denying himself all weekend.

You pumped the length of his shaft a couple of times before covering the tip of him with your mouth. Clint jerked at the sensation and tightened his grip on his armrests. He was fairly certain you wouldn’t appreciate him digging his hands in your hair and face fucking you. As you flicked your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock you hummed sending vibrations through his whole body.

“Shit,” he forced through clenched teeth as he twisted in his chair.

Sucking him hard several times in a row, you slid your mouth from his cock with a pop. You grinned up at him and wiped the salvia and precum from your lips. Damn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. “Let go, Clint.” Your husky voice sent a tremor running through him. “I go this.”

Deciding to take you at your word, he gave into that desire to grab your head and direct you as you moved that hot as fuck mouth over the length of him. He shifted his hips to change the angle and groaned as the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. “Fuck, baby girl. Just like that.”

The sloppy sounds of you sucking him off filled his office and he knew he’d never be able to sit at his desk without hearing it. His eyes practically rolled back in his head as you ran your tongue over the slit in the head. Just as he shifted his grip on you once more, the sound of a knock filled his office. Both of you froze.

The knock came again. “Clint. I need to talk to you.”

Nat. Shit. He jerked back, wincing at the uncomfortable sensation of leaving your mouth so quickly. He pushed you under his desk and slid his chair as much into place as he could feeling very much like a lecherous old man as he did so. “Yeah,” he called out.

His friend stuck her head into the office and frowned as she glanced around. “Everything okay in here? It took you forever to answer.”

He sucked in a breath, very aware of his heart still pounding in his chest. “Fine. Just busy. What did you need?”

“Did you get that email from Loki?”

Clint frowned. “Yeah, I have it here somewhere. Just give me a minute.” He started digging though the papers on his desk knowing he’d printed it out to make notes on it. “Here—” His voice croaked and cut off as your tongue ran from the base to the tip of his cock before twirling around the head. Holy fuck. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Here it is.”

As he said the last word, he was fully engulfed in the warm heaven of your mouth once more. He shifted in his seat and barely managed to bite back the groan that rose in the back of his throat.

Nat tilted her head and arched a brow. “You sure you’re okay. You don’t look so good.”

You chuckled. He knew this because the vibrations ran through his cock, making it twitch. “I’m fine.” He handed her the paper. “I made some notes. See what you think.”

Her attention was drawn to the paper and Clint clutched the edge of his desk as you swallowed all of him again. You sucked hard and bobbed your head making it evident you intended to get him off with his best friend standing on the other side of his desk. And damn if that wasn’t a turn on all in itself. You worked him fast and hard using your mouth and tongue while one of your hands cupped his testicles. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

About thirty more seconds and he was coming whether he liked it or not. “Nat!” She looked up, surprised at the firmness of his tone. “Now’s not a good time. I’ll catch up with you in an hour.” You squeezed him in your hand and he coughed. “Make that two.”

She arched that brow and ran her eyes over him. Finally, she nodded with a smirk that told him she had a fairly decent idea of what was going on at the moment. “Sure, Clint.” She hurried from the office and shut the door behind her just as Clint exploded in your mouth. He tried to pull away, to give you the chance to spit out his cum, but you held tightly to his thighs to prevent him from moving. Fuck.

Once you had drained him of every drop, you allowed him to slide his chair back. You followed him out from under the desk on all fours. You glanced at him through your lashes and smirked. Lipstick was smeared across your mouth and he was certain a fair amount had ended up on his dick.

He reached out and wiped a trace of cum from your lip with his thumb. “I think we better lock the door, sweetheart. I’m not even close to finished with you.”


	16. Chapter 16

You weren’t certain how long you and Clint had been abusing the surfaces of his office and you didn’t feel like moving to get your phone to check. At the moment, you were curled up against his side, his arm wrapped around you as you traced shapes on the skin exposed by his unbuttoned shirt.

It was time to put yourself together and let him get back to work. You’d both mentioned it more than once, though neither of you actually made any movement to do it. You tilted your head back to smile at him. “We forgot to eat lunch.”

“I ate,” he responded with that grin he got when he was feeling rather proud of himself.

You shifted at the reminder of earlier activities and tugged on the hem of your skirt. “Behave yourself, Mr. Barton.”

He grasped your chin to hold you in place while he kissed you. “You should take some of your own advice, beautiful.”

You snorted a laugh. “Yes, I’m sure I look stunning right now.”

“You look hot as fuck.”

Heat flooded your face and you sat up to begin buttoning your blouse. Clint sighed and got to his feet to put himself to rights. Once he fixed his clothes, he ran his hands through his hair and looked only slightly disheveled. That so wasn’t fair.

You ducked into the attached bathroom and did your best to repair the damage to your makeup and hair. After a bit you realized it wasn’t going to get any better and settled for what you’d managed to accomplish. You were heading straight home when you left here anyway. When you stepped out, you found Clint attempting to put the papers on his desk to rights.

Your lips twisted into a smirk. “Guess we made a bit of a mess, huh?”

“I’m not about to complain about it.”

He came around the desk as you gathered your things. “What’s your schedule look like this week?”

“Oh, here.” You pulled out your phone and entered his email to share your calendar with him. “Just accept the link I emailed you and you’ll have access to my schedule.”

“Perfect.” He leaned forward to give you a kiss. “I’ll text you later.”

“Sounds good.” You made your way to the door, proud of yourself for not glancing back at him. You kept your eyes straight ahead until you’d left the office and shut the door behind you.

“Nat wants to see you.” The voice pulled you from your daydreaming.

You frowned at Wade. “What?”

“Natasha wants to see you. I mean Ms. Romanoff would like a word with you before you leave.” He wore a smirk like he knew something you didn’t. It dropped suddenly as a thought occurred to him. “Don’t tell her that I called her Nat. She scares me.”

“Sure thing, Wade. Thanks.” You’d been to Natasha’s office before with Wanda and while you weren’t as familiar with its location as you were Clint’s, it was easy enough to find. It was on the same floor in the opposite corner after all.

Her secretary smiled as you approached the desk. “Y/N Y/L/N. I believe Ms. Romanoff is expecting me.”

“Of course. Go right in.”

The door to her office was open but you still rapped on it when you stepped into the opening. She glanced up and grinned when she saw you. She waved you in. “Come on in and close the door, would you?”

You did as she asked before going over to stand in front of her desk. You shifted your weight on your feet. There was no reason you could think of that Clint’s best friend and vice president might want to speak with you. Except maybe how unprofessional it was to give him head in his office. God, what had you been thinking?

“Sit.”

You took one of the chairs in front of her desk and she leaned back in her seat. She laced her fingers together and rested them on her stomach as she looked you over. That grin never once left her face though it did slide firmly into smirking territory.

“I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”

“Fine,” you answered with a shrug. You and Natasha knew each other but you wouldn’t consider her a friend. Acquaintances about covered it, but you knew she was fiercely loyal to Clint and you wondered what she really wanted to talk to you about.

Her smirk fell into a more serious expression. “I was surprised when he picked you, you know. You’re not his usual fare.”

You weren’t sure how to take that so you just remained quiet.

“You’ve been good for him, I think. He’s loosened up and God knows he needed it.” She leaned forward and placed her hands on the desk.

“Thanks. I think.” You wondered just how many people knew about Clint’s arrangements and why everyone seemed to be perfectly fine with it. It just all seemed odd to you.

“You know the others weren’t allowed here.”

“What?”

She shook her head to emphasize her point. “They might meet him here before they went to an event or to pick him up for lunch on the rare occasion but that’s it. He never ate with them in his office for…” She glanced at the time and smirked again. “Nearly three hours.

You cleared your throat and ran your hands over your skirt.

“Are you falling in love with him?”

“Absolutely not.” And it wasn’t even a lie. You’d fallen a long time ago. There was no hope for you at this point.

Natasha tilted her head as she looked you over and hummed in thought.

You licked your lips. “If there’s nothing else, I should be going.”

When she didn’t respond, you headed to the door. She stopped you before you could open it.

“When I said I was surprised that he picked you, it had nothing to do with you. Clint has rules for his women. One of them is that he never, ever picks a woman that he has any sort of attachment to.” You frowned and she gave you that smirk again. “He’s been attracted to you for ages.”

Your heart raced. Knowing he was attracted to you was one thing. Having his best friend confirm it was something else entirely. You nodded in acknowledgment and left her office. Pulling out your phone, you sent a text to Scott telling him you were on your way down.

Scrolling through your other messages, you found one from Wanda wanting to meet for coffee near campus. As you stepped into the elevator you accepted her invitation. When the doors closed and you saw your reflection in the metal, you realized that you were still grinning like an idiot.

***

You had Scott drop you at your apartment and ran upstairs to change. Once you looked more art student and less freshly fucked, you walked the short distance to the coffee shop. Wanda smiled and waved when you walked through the door. She held up a cup to let you know she’d already gotten your drink for you.

You hugged her before taking the seat across from her and snatching your coffee from her. “Thank you, coffee goddess.”

She nodded once. “That’s right and don’t you forget it.”

“So how goes it? Anything exciting in the life of Wanda I should know about?”

She sipped her drink and shook her head. “Nothing. And isn’t that awful?”

You huffed a laugh. “How was class?”

“Good,” she answered with a shrug. “Of course, all we did was go over the syllabus. It’s sculpture though so I’m excited.”

You grinned as you thought of your own classes that started tomorrow. “I’ve got art history, 2-D Media, photography and Mixed Media this semester. I can’t wait.”

She placed her hand on yours. “I’m just happy you’re following your heart. You were so miserable last year.”

Yeah, business school sucked. “So, did you see Paul?” you asked with a teasing lilt to your voice. She’d met him the blond Brit at the end of the previous semester and met up with him a couple of times over the summer. She said she was taking it slow, but you could tell she really liked this guy even if you hadn’t met him yet.

Her cheeks flushed a bit. “I ran into him between classes but he was in a hurry. We’re having lunch tomorrow.”

“I hope I get to meet him soon.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “We’ll see. How about you? How is your love life?”

You nearly spat your coffee. As it was, you sat and blinked at her. It took her a moment to realize what she’d just said and she held up her hands. “Never mind. Forget I said that. I most certainly do not want an answer to that question.”

“Thank God.” Both of you laughed.

As the laughter died down, she laid her hand on yours again. “I just want you to be happy. Both of you.”

You smiled. “We are.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild sexy times

It didn’t take long for you and Clint to fall into a routine of lunches and dinners and long weekends spent together in bed. Weeks passed and, before you knew it, midterms were approaching.

The best thing about being an art major was that your midterms consisted of several projects and only one paper. The projects were done and ready for the midterm art show but you were procrastinating on the paper. Well, sort of. The research was done, but you still needed to write it. Currently it was a Saturday afternoon and your feet were propped up in Clint’s lap while the two of you watched a movie you’d seen a dozen times before.

His hands rested on your legs while one of his thumbs rubbed against your bare skin. You’d spent more time watching him than the movie. Suddenly, you were struck by an idea and pulled your legs from his lap. He glanced over in surprise to find you grinning. His gaze narrowed. “What are you up to?”

You hopped to your feet and held out a hand. “Trust me?”

“Always,” he answered and took your hand without hesitation.

You dragged him through the apartment to your studio and directed him to sit on a stool in front of your easel. “Stay.” You danced around the room to gather the needed supplies and felt Clint’s gaze on you the entire time. You handed him a pallet of paints in various shades and placed a blank canvas in front of him. Then you hurried back to the corner where your camera was already set up from an earlier session. One of your classes had an assignment called art in motion where you were supposed to capture images of someone creating. You didn’t like anything you’d done so far. Maybe this would be different. You set the camera to take pictures every thirty seconds with no flash. There was enough natural light in the room that it shouldn’t be needed.

You turned back to Clint to find him watching you with a little smirk. “You gonna tell me what we’re doing here, beautiful?”

“Haven’t you figured it out, handsome?” you teased. “We’re going to paint a picture.”

He huffed a laugh. “You should know by now that there’s not an artistic bone in my body.”

You hummed in agreement. “That’s why I said _we_ not _you_.” You sashayed your way back to him and took the pallet to secure it where you always did when you worked. You picked out a couple of brushes and handed him one. “Brush. Water. Paint,” you instructed, pointing to each in turn.

“So, what would you have me do, oh artistic one?”

“Whatever you want. That’s the beautiful thing about art. And if we hate it, we paint over it. Just have fun.” To demonstrate your words, you coated your brush in a vivid medium blue and a bit of white and made a swoosh right in the middle of the blank canvas. As always, you felt a rush as the color marred the pristine surface. Perfect.

“I’m not sure I understand. You need to show me again.”

You frowned. What was there to understand? With a little shrug, you filled your brush again but Clint’s hand on your wrist stopped you before you could add more color to the canvas.

“No. I won’t be able to see it like that. I’m an old man you know.”

You rolled your eyes but allowed him to shift your body so you stood in the small space between him and the canvas, nestled securely between his knees. One arm wrapped around your waist to pull you back against him. “Much better.”

“In that case…” You plucked the brush from his other hand and replaced it with your own. Before he could protest, you placed your hand on top of his and steered it to the canvas. The two of you made a slash of color across one corner.

There was a pause before he said, “That was oddly satisfying.”

His declaration had you grinning again. “It is, isn’t it?” You moved your hand from his and leaned against his chest. His chin rested on your shoulder and you simply watched as he continued to paint. It wasn’t long before he was intensely concentrated on the canvas. His tongue poked out slightly between his lips, begging you to kiss him. You resisted and instead, grabbed a brush, added some paint, and quickly swiped it down his nose.

He stilled instantly and blinked. “Did you just…” he asked without looking at you.

“Yep.”

He hummed and his fingers splayed against your stomach as his hold tightened. Instead of retaliating as you’d expected, he simply added more paint to the picture. After three or four strokes, something wet smeared down your cheek.

You bit back a laugh and pursed your lips. “And you just…”

“Uh-huh.”

You held your ground for a bit before twisting away from his grip and spinning to face him. Grinning, you held your brush up like a sword. “So that’s how it is.”

He mirrored your stance and arched a brow. “You started it, sweetheart.”

Moments later, paint was flying between the two of you and laughter filled the air. At some point, you abandoned the brush and scooped up paint with your fingers to fling at him. Until you made the mistake of getting too close. His paint covered hands grasped your arms and turned you so your back was pressed against his front. Streaks of color decorated your skin and Clint’s shirt you’d slipped on this morning.

His lips found the curve of your neck and you no longer wished to escape his hold. One hand splayed against your stomach while the other found its way under the shirt. His warm hand cupped and caressed your breast and you pressed against him with a moan. You’d never been a particularly sex-driven creature prior to Clint but damned if you weren’t constantly turned on in his presence.

His teeth raked across the skin of your neck while he squeezed your breast again. “Fuck, Clint.” You felt his smile against your skin as he started to walk to the two of you forward. Your hands grabbed the arm around your waist as you let yourself focus on the feel of his lips and hand on your body. This man drove you insane with want—with need—until you weren’t certain how you’d ever existed without him as such an intimate part of your world.

The hand on your belly slid down past the band of your panties to cup your sex. You whimpered as you arched against his palm and he chuckled. As he lowered the two of you to the fabric covered floor, you bit your lip to keep from saying the words that seemed to hover on the tip of your tongue so often lately. You were happy with him, elated even, but you would give nearly anything to be able to tell him that you loved him. Because you did. With every part of you. You did almost nothing without him by your side anymore. And the few things you did, you always found yourself wondering how he would react if he was there.

Once you were on your back and splayed out before him, he paused to rake his eyes over you. The heat in them caused any disappointment you felt in your current relationship to flee. And any thoughts you might have had about taking the risk and just telling him disappeared as his lips found yours and his body pressed into you. You couldn’t chance losing this. Not yet. Not until you were completely sure he was just as gone for you as you were for him.

Your hands tangled in each other’s clothing as you undressed one another, desperate, needy for one another as if you hadn’t just made love mere hours ago. And as he pressed into you, filling you completely, you arched your back and clawed at his arms as you forgot about the camera snapping away in the corner.


	18. Chapter 18

Clint debated with himself for days over whether or not to go to your midterm art show. Wanda’s was on a different night as her focus was on sculpture and pottery while you stuck with things like painting or photography. He actually wanted to attend but feared it would be crossing a line. Things with you had been going well. So well, in fact that he was being extra cautious, not wanting anything to ruin the dynamic the two of you shared. What finally decided him was the fact he would have attended had the two of you not had your arrangement so there wasn’t really a need for him to skip it.

When he walked into the school gallery, his eyes immediately scanned the room looking for you. Instead, his gaze landed on Steve Rogers. He should have guessed his friend would be here. He owned a gallery downtown and often looked for new talent at the school shows. Clint closed the distance between them and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Steve turned with lifted brows, grinning when he saw Clint. They shook hands.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Steve said. “Wanda’s show was last week, wasn’t it?”

Clint nodded and grabbed one of the waters a nearby student was passing out. He took a long swallow and cleared his throat. “The woman I’m seeing has some pieces in the show tonight.”

Curiosity shone in Steve’s eyes but thankfully he spared Clint any of the questions he undoubtedly had. “See anything that piques your interest?” he asked to change the topic.

Steve nodded. “I always find something I like, but liking and wanting to invest time and money in the artist are two different things. I might have lucked out this time though.”

“I didn’t think you were going to come.”

Clint turned with a smile at the sound of your voice.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve been so busy. It’s nice to see you, but you didn’t have to.”

He merely hummed in agreement and slid a hand around your waist to pull you into his side. “This is an old friend of mine, Steve Rogers. Steve, this is Y/N Y/L/N.”

Steve’s eyes lit as he grabbed your hand. “You’re Y/N?”

You looked between the two men, uncertain why Steve was so excited. “Um…yes?”

“I was hoping to meet you this evening. Your work is stunning.” He tugged on your hand to pull you away from Clint and toward one of your pieces.

Clint pulled you to a stop and you glanced at him in amusement. “Did you walk?”

You nodded. He hated that you walked everywhere, especially when it was dark. It may not have been when you came to the show but it certainly would be by the time you went home.

“Go talk to Steve. I’ll take you home. I don’t want you walking alone at night.”

He could see the argument hovering on your lips, but you bit it back and simply gave him a nod before turning your attention to Steve.

***

You wanted to tell Clint you were a big girl and could see yourself home, but the truth was you weren’t about to turn down the ride. You had intended to call an uber when the show was over, but Clint was a much more appealing option. You followed his friend to the photography series you’d submitted for your mid-term project.

He gestured to the four connected pieces. “These are brilliant.”

You grinned. “Thank you.” The photographs showed the curve of a female’s naked back divided into four separate images. A man’s finger was running along the spine in one of them.

“They are so simple but the lighting and angle…Everything is stunning. You can feel the desire in them.”

Pride welled in you despite not having any idea who this man was. That someone you didn’t know thought that your work was so great, thrilled you.

He turned from the art to face you fully and rested his hand on his mouth as his brow furrowed in thought. “Your painting was completely different but evoked the same reaction. Simple but full of feeling.”

“Thank you.” You wished there was something else to say, but you couldn’t think of anything. When the man just continued to study you, you shifted your weight and cleared your throat. “Did you see the mixed media piece?”

His eyes went wide. “No. I love mixed media. Show me.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you at the man’s enthusiasm. You led him deeper into the gallery, stopping in front of the large piece you did that combined charcoal, paint and photography into one stunning image. At least you thought so.

Clint’s friend looked over the piece with a spark in his eye you couldn’t place. Finally, he turned to you and handed you a business card. _1 0 7 – an art gallery_ was emblazoned across the middle with Steve Rogers, owner written underneath along with a number.

Your breath caught. “Wait…you _own_ the one oh seven gallery?”

Steve grinned and gave you a nod. “I do, and I’d like to talk to you about doing a show.”

“That’s amazing.” And it was, but you couldn’t help but be a little hesitant. You’d been to the gallery with Clint and Wanda. It was amazing and you’d dreamed of having a show there, but this seemed a little too easy.

“I normally don’t do this. When I find someone with potential, I’ll have them bring me their portfolio and maybe we’ll put one or two pieces in a mixed show. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone with your level of talent, Y/N,” Steve assured you, meeting your gaze the entire time so you could see how serious he was. “This isn’t an offer I make lightly. Do you think you have enough work to support a full show? I had an artist flake on me recently and I’d like you to take his spot. I’m talking two months. Mid-December. If you can’t do it by then, we could maybe do something in the spring.”

He talked so fast, you couldn’t help but smile. He seemed to be just as excited as you. You quickly did a mental inventory of the pieces you already had finished or in the works. “I think I could make December work.” Of course, you would. You weren’t about to let this opportunity slip past you.

His grin widened. “Fantastic. Call me this week and we’ll talk about it.”

You could do little more than nod and clutch his card as he hurried away. Your gaze followed him as he stopped to talk to Clint, the two of them glancing at you more than once during their short conversation. The excitement thrumming through your veins slowly started to fade and when they both smiled in your direction, it died completely.

***

Clint was surprised when you wanted to leave before the end of the show, but he wasn’t about to argue. It actually took longer for him to drive you home than it would have for you to walk, but it was much safer as far as he was concerned. He glanced over to find you staring out the window, chin in hand. You hadn’t said a word to him since you told him you were ready to go.

“What’s going on with you, sweetheart? You feeling all right?”

You shrugged. “Your friend Steve wants me to do a show in his gallery.”

Clint was stunned. Steve was particular about the artists he showcased. “He wants you to do a whole show, not just a couple of pieces?”

You nodded but still didn’t look at him.

“Well, that’s great, isn’t it? You should be bouncing off the walls with news like that.”

You sighed and Clint’s heart twinged at the sad sound. “I just wanted to do it on my own, you know? Just me and my work, without any strings getting pulled. Not that I don’t appreciate you helping me out, but I’m disappointed, I guess.”

He’d just pulled into your lot and immediately found the first empty space though your building was much further down. You glanced at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. He grabbed your hand to make certain he had your attention. “Y/N, I had nothing to do with Steve.”

“What?”

“Him liking your work? That was all him. I had nothing to do with it. I swear.”

Your head tilted. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “If I thought you wanted me to talk to him, I would have. But I know you better than that. It never even occurred to me to do it, because you wouldn’t want that. This is yours, baby. All yours.”

You grinned and your entire face lit. “I have a show at the one oh seven.” A giggle escaped you at the end of your announcement and Clint couldn’t help but chuckle. You grasped his hand more firmly. “Stay with me tonight.”

He hesitated. The two of you had been spending almost all of your free time together lately. He should go home, put some distance between the two of you, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to go to your apartment with you and have a celebratory toast before making love to you all night. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. “Wouldn’t dream of leaving.”


	19. Chapter 19

Despite Clint’s concerns about the amount of time the two of you were spending together, nothing changed. If anything, you only became more inseparable. Granted, the two of you were busy in your own lives. You were preparing for your show and Clint was working on his project with Nick so you had less time than before, but what you did have was spent together.

One day a few weeks after your midterm, the weather had taken a warm turn. It felt like spring and everyone was taking full advantage of the change to soak up the sun and the warmth while they could. It had been a few days since Clint had any contact with you apart from texts and phone calls and he grew restless sitting at his desk watching the time pass.

Deciding he wasn’t getting anything done anyway, he left the office and headed home to grab his bike. By his calculations, he had just enough time to change and get to the school to pick you up after your last class.

Arriving with a couple of minutes to spare, he pulled up to the curb and turned off the bike while he waited for you to emerge. The day was cool enough he could leave his helmet and gloves in place since the two of you would be taking off soon enough. It wasn’t much later when he saw you come out in a group with several other students.

You were walking arm and arm with a girl he’d never seen before. The two of you were apparently in deep conversation if the way your heads were tilted together was any indication. One of the guys in the group grabbed your arm to get your attention. Clint straightened as you shoved the guy away from you without even glancing in his direction.

Undeterred, the asshole slid closer and placed his arm around your shoulder. Clint started to climb off the bike but stopped when your head snapped over to glare at the kid in question. He had no idea what you were saying, but he chuckled as the interloper put his hands up in a placating gesture and backed away from you. He grabbed the rest of his little friends and they headed in a different direction. Good. The more distance between him and you the better.

Once Clint was certain the boys were going to continue to leave you alone, he turned his attention back to you. You waved at your friend as you finished your conversation and then headed straight for him with a wide smile.

“Hello, handsome,” you greeted and flipped the visor up so you could steal a kiss.

Clint frowned. “How did you know it was me?”

You rolled your eyes and moved behind him to pull your helmet out of the back. “You on this bike in your gear is a sight I’m not likely to forget anytime soon. Trust me. It’s been implanted in my brain since the first time I saw it in 9th grade.”

The corner of his mouth curled up in a satisfied smirk. You took your seat behind him and he looked over his shoulder. “You make me feel like a dirty old man when you say stuff like that.”

You laughed as you wrapped your arms around him. “You are a dirty old man, Mr. Barton.”

He growled and started the bike. You laid your head against his back and tightened your grip as he pulled away from the curb.

***

Unfortunately, you and Clint hadn’t gotten to spend much time together despite him taking off work early. You had a meeting with Steve that evening to go over your pieces for the show. You’d asked him if he wanted to come with you but that was your accomplishment and you could damn sure take care of it without him.

He’d settled for having dinner with you and left just as Scott arrived to drive you to the gallery. His mind wandered as he rode and he soon found himself driving the opposite direction of his home. The house he pulled up in front of was simple but stylish. Just like the woman that owned it.

Clint knocked on the red front door and was not the least surprised when it was answered by Bucky Barnes. Clint smiled and held out a hand. “Hey, Buck. How’s things?”

“Better than ever, Barton. Come on in.”

Clint knew his way around the house but waited for Bucky to shut and lock the door so he could follow him. This was as much Bucky’s house now as it was Nat’s and Clint wasn’t comfortable enough to make himself at home in Bucky’s house.

“Nat didn’t mention you were stopping by.” There was no condemnation in the other man’s tone. Just a simple statement of fact.

“It wasn’t exactly planned.”

Bucky hummed and opened a door to the left. “In that case, why don’t you make yourself at home in the library. Nat keeps your liquor in the bottom right drawer of the desk now. Stark drank it all last time he was here.”

Clint laughed and made a beeline for that drawer. He poured a glass for himself and one for Nat. After a brief hesitation, he poured one for Bucky as well. Maybe he should get his opinion on all this as well. Nat had already told him she had no secrets from Bucky so he probably already knew all about Clint’s fucked up dating life.

It wasn’t long before Nat came into the room drying her hair with a towel. “Something wrong, Clint?”

He shook his head.  “Not like you’re thinking.”

Bucky nodded once at that and started to leave after deciding his presence wasn’t required.

“I’d appreciate your input on this as well, Bucky,” Clint called, stopping him.

The other man looked between Clint and Nat in surprise before shrugging one shoulder and moving into the room. He grinned at the already prepared drink and took a seat in an empty chair.

“All right, what’s going on?” Nat prodded when he’d been quiet for too long. She never had the patience for delaying what needed to be said.

Clint licked his lips. “Y/N.”

She leaned forward. “You didn’t dump her, did you?”

He frowned. “No.”

“Thank fuck.” She slumped back in her chair. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I’m starting to think maybe I _should_ end this.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide and he slid over to put a bit more space between him and Nat.

“Why are you cowering away?” Clint asked.

“I’m not cowering. I’m just making some room in case she explodes. She likes this one.”

Clint’s gaze found Natasha’s. “What do you mean you like her? You know that’s not what this is. You know how this works.”

She pursed her lips and took a deep breath. Finally, she nodded once as if coming to a decision. “No, Clint. I know how this used to work. But this, what you have with Y/N, is nothing like what you’ve had before and you know it.”

He shook his head. “That’s not true.”

She huffed a laugh. “You have always gone out of your way to pick women you have no interest in. I would call them eye candy, but I don’t think you were even attracted to them on that level. They were just a body to fill a position. But you’ve liked Y/N for years.” He started to protest and Nat held up a finger to cut him off. “You can deny all you want, Barton, but you talk about her almost as much as Wanda. And the comments you made about her appearance at the few events she would attend were not fatherly so don’t give me that either.”

He sighed, knowing she was right. “Fine. So, I took advantage of an opportunity to make the relationship more intimate. You’ve got me there. That’s not the problem.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Then what is?”

After closing his eyes and running a hand through his hair, Clint sat his drink on the table in front of him. “It’s no good this thing her and I have. For either of us. I can’t help but think it will ruin us when it’s over.”

“I think you better explain that,” Bucky said. “Nat said you’ve been more laid back than she’s seen you in years. She thinks Y/N is responsible for that.”

God, they were never going to understand this. “Look, for years I’ve had a routine. My life has had a certain order to it. There are few surprises and I like it that way. With Y/N, everything is a surprise. I never know exactly what will happen in any given situation. I spend half my time with her and when I’m not with her, I want to be with her. Believe it or not, I’ve got shit to do. I can’t be spending all my time thinking about a woman the same age as my daughter.”

“First of all, you and I both know you couldn’t care less about the age thing. Secondly, what you’re describing is exactly what a relationship is supposed to be like, Barton. I know it’s been awhile, but I didn’t think you were that clueless.” Nat arched a brow looking entirely too pleased with herself.

“Thanks, Nat. That’s helpful and would be fantastic if I was looking for a real relationship.”

Nat rolled her eyes but before Clint could call her out for it, Bucky spoke up. “What’s bringing this on all of a sudden?”

Clint chewed at his bottom lip. “Some boy was hitting on her this afternoon. I didn’t like it.”

“Okay, so you were possessive. You’re always like that. Even when you don’t much like the woman you’re with.”

It was true that Clint had an exclusivity clause in the contracts but that was to keep up appearances and to keep from being bothered by jealous boyfriends. It certainly wasn’t because he didn’t want them speaking to other men. Hell, he rarely cared.

Apparently seeing Clint wasn’t convinced, Bucky continued. “Has she said anything to you about feelings? Made any declarations of love or the like?”

“No.” That was true enough.

“Personally, I think that you just aren’t used to spending time with someone whose company you enjoy. You’ve forgotten how nice it can be. If she’s not saying she’s in love with you I don’t see why anything would be ruined when it’s over. I mean it’s not as if you love her or anything so you should be good.” Bucky sipped his drink while Clint stewed over his words.

“You’re right, Bucky. I think I’m just paranoid because things have been going so well. Thanks.” He stood and glanced at Nat. “He might even give better advice than you.”

She huffed and arched a brow but said nothing. They followed him to the door. Once he was on his bike and ready to take off, he turned back to wave and found Barnes speaking into Nat’s ear. The grin on his best friend’s face grew with every word. Something about both of their expressions told him he’d just missed out on a fantastic joke.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some verbal and minor physical abuse with Rumlow in this chapter. Don't read if it will bother you.

The motorcycle ride had been wholly unexpected and completely wonderful. You hadn’t gone for a ride in ages and honestly you loved it. The evening with Clint came to an early end as you were meeting Steve at the one oh seven to talk about the pieces you had for the show. You were excited to talk about the show with him but part of you feared him telling you he hated everything and cancelling the show. The rational part of you told you he wouldn’t do that. Would he?

You thanked Scott when he dropped you off and he told you to text when you were ready to go home. You paused outside the gallery and sucked in a breath, trying to brace yourself for the discussion to come. Finally deciding you weren’t going to get any braver, you opened the door and stepped inside.

Steve was in front of you in seconds as if he had appeared from thin air. The grin he wore instantly put you at ease as you shook his hand. “Y/N. It is so good to see you again. I’m glad we could get together.” He held out a hand toward your portfolio. “Is everything in there?”

You handed it over with a nod. “Yes. Or at least pictures at any rate. I didn’t exactly want to haul canvases around.”

He chuckled and headed toward the back of the gallery. You followed him into a storage room with a large table in the middle. It appeared he had already cleared a space for you and he opened the portfolio. You’d expected him to just flip through it and maybe go back to look at a couple of pieces. Instead, he lingered over each image. Sometimes he asked questions, sometimes he didn’t.

When he reached the end of your work, he leaned on the table and tapped his fingers against the wood. “Is this all you have?”

You’d completely forgotten the notebook in your purse and hastily pulled it out. “It’s the finished pieces. There are some partials I didn’t see the point of taking a picture of because you wouldn’t be able to tell anything from them anyway. I also have some ideas for new pieces.”

“Good. Let me see.”

You placed the notebook in front of him and flipped through the pages to show him your sketches. He nodded along as you explained your vision for each work. When you finished he frowned. “What about the photography piece at the show? The one with the woman’s back.”

“A friend of mine modeled for it. I promised she could have it when the show was over as payment. I could maybe get her to loan it to me.” You bit your lip. You’d liked the piece as well, but thought you had better work, anyway.

He waved a hand through the air. “Not necessary.” He sighed. “I’m going to be honest here, Y/N. I like what you have here and the other pieces you have planned, but something’s missing.”

A knot formed in your stomach. “Like what?”

He raked a hand through his hair. “A showpiece maybe? A theme? Just something…more.”

You chewed at your lip and flipped to a different page in your notebook. “I had another idea.”

As you flipped through the next several pages of the book, Steve began to nod. “This is perfect. Absolutely perfect.” He glanced from the page to you. “You sure about this?”

That made you smile. “I wouldn’t have shown you if I wasn’t.”

He tilted his head with a grin. “Fair enough.”

“Would it be okay if I took some pictures of the gallery before I go? It would help me decide on sizes and may help me come up with a new piece,” you asked as you gathered your things up.

“Of course.” He walked toward the door and motioned for you to follow. “Come on, I’ll even show you the best angles.”

***

In the days that followed, you noticed Clint was quieter than usual. When you asked him about it, he blamed work and you left it alone. You weren’t certain you believed him, but you also didn’t want to push too hard. Something in his demeanor had changed though you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. It was enough to have you treading carefully around him, afraid if you made the wrong move, you’d lose him.

You’d started keeping the door to your studio closed when he was around. When he asked why you simply told him you wanted him to be as surprised as everyone else when your show opened. In truth, your new work left you feeling vulnerable and raw. That wasn’t a conversation you cared to have with Clint just yet.

Soon it was a Friday night the week before Thanksgiving. You were meeting Clint at another dinner though you couldn’t remember the charity for this one. He was supposed to pick you up, but you lost track of time and told him you’d meet him there. You’d cleaned up as quickly as possible and slipped into the new red cocktail dress you’d purchased for the occasion. Matching heels and a pair of delicate earrings and you were ready to go.

Clint told you he’d send a car. Sure enough, there was a dark sedan and a driver waiting in the parking lot. You were a bit disappointed it wasn’t Scott, but he was driving Clint. You supposed he had to drive the person that paid him at least occasionally.

You gave a nod of thanks to the driver as he opened the back door for you. The ride to the venue was quiet and too long. By the time you arrived, you were more than ready to be out of the car and on Clint’s arm. You made your way inside and were immediately handed a glass of champagne.

Your gaze darted around the crowded room until you found Clint. His back was to you and he was in deep conversation with Tony Stark from the look of things. Pepper glanced up and grinned when you caught her eye. You lifted a hand in greeting but were stopped by a touch on your arm as you stepped in their direction.

When you turned, you were surprised to find your father. More so, that he was sober and calm. “Can I have a word? It will just take a moment.”

“Of course.” You glanced back to see Pepper frowning in concern. You simply shook your head and did your best to convey that you were fine. Clint was still pissed at Rumlow over the last time so when your father steered you to a small room down the hall from the main event, you went without complaint. He rarely asked for your time when he wasn’t angry so when he did, you tended to give it to him. Ass he may be, but he was still your father.

The two of you ended up in some sort of sitting room and you perched on the edge of a chair. “So, what did you want to talk about?” you asked when he didn’t immediately start talking.

“I still don’t approve of you leaving business school. However, it has been brought to my attention that you are succeeding in your endeavors at this school of yours which I suppose means you won’t switching back.”

You tilted your head and studied him with a furrowed brow. His tone was unreadable and you weren’t certain if this was his idea of conceding the point or if he was annoyed at your success. “I suppose you’re going to have to explain for me just what you’re trying to tell me here, dad. I can’t tell if you’re pleased or pissed.”

He grunted. “Which do you suppose it is, Y/N?”

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. You’d been a disappointment to your father in one way or another since he discovered your existence. Eventually it would cease to surprise you. “Okay, I get it. You’re pissed I’m in art school. I think we’ve already had this conversation two or three hundred times.”

“See, that’s just it. I don’t think you do get it. Because if you did, we wouldn’t need to keep having this conversation.” He paced the small room as he spoke.

With a huff, you got to your feet. He always wanted you to sit while he loomed over you to lecture you. You guessed he thought you’d feel more intimidated. He’d ceased to have that effect on you years ago. “Maybe it’s you that doesn’t get it. Or maybe you just like to listen to yourself talk, because God knows I’m tired of listening to it. So unless you have something new to add, I’ll be going. My date is waiting.”

“Date? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grinned but there was nothing happy in the gesture. “It means we had a different name in my day for women that sold themselves for money.”

You clenched your teeth together resisting the urge to scream at him. That’s what he wanted after all—a reaction. “Well, you would know all about that. Wouldn’t you?”

“Funny. Let’s see if you think this is funny. I met with my attorneys this week. You are cut off. Completely.”

It was always came back to the money with him. Every. Single. Time. You sighed. “You cut me off months ago, dad. This isn’t news.”

“You misunderstand. You will never get another dime from me, ever. Even when I die, you get nothing. If you can’t do as I wish, you don’t deserve it.”

“Is that all?” He would do whatever he was going to do and there was nothing you could do about it. You refused to bend to his will any more.

He stepped closer to you. “Don’t you get it? We’re over you and I. If you decide to do as you should, we can talk about it, but until then, we’re finished.”

“You’re right, we are. Don’t fucking call me, don’t talk to me. In fact, why don’t you forget I even fucking exist?”

“That’s how you talk to your father?” Anger had him tensing and stepping closer to you.

“Are you serious right now? You’re the one who said we were finished, but you’re pissed when I act like it?” You sighed. You were so over his mind games. You’d been dealing with them since you were ten years old and frankly, you were exhausted.

“So, you don’t even care that I’m not going to be in your life anymore? I really mean that little to you?” His voice was firm, angry but you thought for a moment you might have seen just a bit of remorse on his face.

You resisted the urge to stomp your feet in irritation. Barely. “I’m not the one doing this. You are.” His glare hardened as you continued. “But you don’t see it that way, do you? This is my fault because I won’t fall in line. You are such an asshole.”

Pain flared through your cheek and it took a moment for you to realize that he’d slapped you. Before you could even think of responding, he was gone. You cupped your cheek in your hand and gave into your earlier urge to stomp your foot. “Fucking asshole.”

You took a breath and glanced at your reflection in the mirror. A couple more breaths had you looking less frantic and pissed off. Deciding that was as good as it was likely to get, you shoved what had just happened with Rumlow to the back of your mind and went to find Clint.

Nick and Maria had joined Clint and the others and you slipped seamlessly into their little gathering. You linked your arm with Clint’s and leaned into his side, just needing the comfort of his presence for a moment. After you greeted everyone, he leaned down to speak in your ear and you turned your head to hear him better.

“Everything okay?”

You hummed in annoyance rather than answering outright. “We’ll talk about it later.”

He leaned back with a nod.

You were about to say something else when you realized your group had gone silent. They were all staring at you with various degrees of anger in their expressions. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

Nick looked from you to Pepper. “Rumlow you said?”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Right, then.” Tony handed his drink to Pepper. He straightened his jacket and looked around the room.

“What—” Clint cut you off when he grasped your chin gently and turned your head so he could see the other side of your face.

His transformation from easy going to furious was instantaneous and severe. “That son of a bitch.” You frowned again and he reached up to trace your cheek with his fingers. “If someone other than your father left this handprint on your face, you better tell me now.”


	21. Chapter 21

A moment passed in which Clint wasn’t certain you were going to respond to him at all. He almost wished you hadn’t when you turned away from his touch and the light caught the sheen of tears in your eyes. Son of a bitch. His urge to beat the shit out of Rumlow was increasing by the moment.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s over.”

Anger flared through him that you would still protect your father after everything he’d done, but before he could protest, Maria spoke up. “I know you’d rather just forget it, Y/N, but you can’t honestly expect us to let this go? This is too far.”

You shrugged and gave a little laugh. “It doesn’t matter. He’s finally done what he wanted to do from the moment he met me. He has officially declared he’s not my father. He’s had me written out of his life. Happy Holidays and all that.”

Clint saw easily through the carefree tone of your voice. As much as you and your father didn’t get along, you were heartbroken. Damn it, Rumlow.

“What do you mean he’s written you out of his life?” Nick asked. The dark tone to his voice had Clint hoping he never pissed the man off to that extent.

“I’m not his daughter anymore, okay? No money, no home, no nothing. Not even when he dies. He said we could discuss it when I come to my senses and do what he wants.” Clint rubbed his hand down your arm and you pressed closer to his side.

There was a stretch of silence while they all digested what had just happened to their friend. At least that’s what Clint assumed until Nick Fury leaned his head back in laughter.

Maria smacked his arm with the back of her hand and hissed his name. “What are you doing?”

The man struggled to get himself under control and wiped a tear from his eye. Clint glanced down to find you smiling in amusement at Nick. Well, that was something, at least.

“Sorry,” he said and pulled himself together. “Not to put too fine a spin on it, Rumlow just fucked himself and it is a beautiful thing.”

“So, are we kicking his ass or what?” Tony asked as he looked around the group.

“Oh, we are, but he’s not even going to see it coming,” Nick assured with a sinister grin.

You shivered against him and glanced up. “That’s his evil smile. He has a plan.”

The group found a table in the corner and settled in as Nick explained his contract with Rumlow’s company rested contingent on Y/N taking over for him, either before or after death. As Rumlow had disowned her and written her out of the will, that was no longer a possibility. When Fury backed out of his contract come Monday, it would cost Rumlow’s company millions. It was a blow to the part of his anatomy Rumlow treasured the most, his wallet. You thought it was brilliant, but Clint still wanted to beat the shit out of him. A couple of discreet inquiries later, he’d discovered that Rumlow left as soon as he finished his _conversation_ with you. Coward.

It wasn’t much later when Natasha and Bucky joined them. Natasha greeted Y/N with a hug and Clint arched a brow. He had no idea the two of you were that close and the knowledge had him shifting his weight in his chair uneasily. You glanced at him with a soft smile. “You okay, handsome?”

He forced a smile. “Of course.”

You looked at him a moment longer before nodding your head once and turning back to the conversation. Clint spent the rest of the evening in quiet contemplation only occasionally contributing to the conversation.

At the end of the evening, Scott had barely shut the door behind the two of you after getting in the car before you turned to him, arms crossed. “Okay. What’s up with you? You’re broodier than normal.”

He frowned. “I do not brood.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, you so do.”

He grabbed you and shifted so you were leant against his side. “I’m still pissed about Rumlow.” It was a half-truth but you seemed to buy it easily enough.

You nodded and settled more securely against him. “He’s not worth it.” There was a beat of silence then you laughed. “We have the best friends.”

He rubbed his thumb along your arm and hummed. There it was again. That word. _We_. At some point the two of you had ceased being you and him and were now we. They. A couple. You were so tightly woven into his life, he feared if he tried to pull you out the whole thing would unravel.

When the car pulled up to your door, you turned and gave him a kiss. “I had a nice time tonight despite everything. Thank you.”

He smiled in spite of himself. “It was my pleasure, beautiful.” Suddenly remembering the email he had received earlier, he grabbed your hand to stop you as you went to slide out of the car. “What are you doing Tuesday night?”

“I finally managed to get some time in the photo lab since people are on break. Do I need to move it?” His gaze ran over your face and he knew you’d change everything in a second to please him. Was that because you wanted to or because it was in the contract? He’d never worried about this shit before?

Finally, he shook his head. “Nope. I was just going to take you to dinner. Nothing important. We’ll go another night.”

“You sure?”

When he nodded you leaned in to give him another kiss. Another moment and you were out of the car and in your building. His eyes followed you until he could no longer see you through the glass then he shifted his attention to your window. By now Scott knew not to leave until your light went on and you waved down at them.

The car was already pulling out of the parking lot by the time you made it to the window.

***

Tuesday evening you grabbed your computer and the memory card from your camera before heading to the photo lab. You had a rare uninterrupted block of time to use their equipment and intended to take full advantage. You’d been so busy you hadn’t even had the time to look at the photos you’d taken, but you knew there were some of you and Clint that would be perfect for your show. Provided they were cropped correctly, of course.

As you sat up in the room, you slid the memory card into your laptop and tapped the table while you waited for the images to transfer. Your brows lifted as you saw the sheer number of photos on the card. You certainly didn’t remember taking that many. Bouncing in your seat you started to scroll through the images the moment they were all on your computer. The photos of the two of you had you smiling until you arrived at the paint fight. By then you were laughing.

The laughter trailed off as you scrolled down. _Oh. Oh my._ Well, you certainly hadn’t expected that this evening. Your face heated at some of the more explicit images captured by the camera. But then the artist kicked in and you started focusing on sections of photos that could be used by themselves or in projects. You grinned and started to mark photos to work with. This was going to be brilliant.

***

Clint finished his speech and thanked the gathered crowd once more before stepping from the stage. The dinner tonight was being given in this honor for his charitable contributions and advancements made with prosthetics for amputees to live a more active lifestyle. He’d honestly forgotten about it until the reminder email he’d received the week before.

Natasha met him as he left the stage and directed him toward their table. Clint had arrived just in time to give his speech and had no idea where he was sitting. Bucky sat beside three empty chairs, his own prosthetic on display proudly. Clint grinned and nodded a greeting as he took his seat. “Where’s Y/N?” Bucky asked leaning toward him.

Clint shook his head. “She’s getting ready for her show.”

Nat frowned. “I’m surprised she didn’t make it a point to be here. That doesn’t seem like her.”

He cleared his throat. “I didn’t tell her. She didn’t need to rearrange things to be here. What she’s doing is more important than me getting another award.”

“I’m not sure she’d see it that way,” Natasha muttered and he shot her a look. She held up her hands. “I’m done. You should eat.”

She spared him any more discussion as they finished their meals. Once people started moving around the room to get drinks and mingle, she spoke again. “I just don’t see why you care.”

He rested an elbow on the back of his chair as he turned to face her with an arched brow. “I’m sorry?”

She shrugged. “I don’t see why you care if Y/N has to rearrange her schedule. I mean that’s what she’s there for, right? To go to things like this with you?”

Irritation crawled up his spine. “I’m not a heartless bastard, Nat. And I’m hardly insecure enough to fear attending an event on my own.”

“Nice award, Barton,” came a voice from behind him before Nat could respond.

Clint turned to Tony with a smile and shook his hand. “Thank you, Stark. Just trying to live up to your high expectations of me.”

Tony waved his hand through the air. “Impossible.” He looked around. “Where’s the lovely Y/N tonight?”

“Not here.” Clint’s tone was clipped. He was irrationally angry with Tony for the inquiry. It had to be Natasha’s prodding getting under his skin.

Tony dropped a hand onto his shoulder. “Dear god, you didn’t break up with her, did you?”

Clint scowled, his brow furrowing. “She’s working.”

“Besides, don’t you think she’s more likely to break up with him?” Bucky asked.

Natasha nodded and hummed thoughtfully.

Tony laughed. “Oh, not that one. She’s smitten with him. It’s written all over her any time they’re together. I’d say the feeling is mutual but Barton doesn’t do love.”

Clint shoved his friend’s hand from his shoulder and got to his feet. “I need a drink.”

He ignored Tony’s insistence it was only a joke and made his way to the bar. A two-minute walk, took fifteen by the time he finished shaking hands and extricating himself from conversations he didn’t wish to have. Someone leaned on the bar beside him while he waited for his drink. Not wanting to exchange anymore inane conversation, Clint didn’t glance over.

“Barton,” came the familiar deep voice.

Clint straightened and drained his drink quickly before slamming the empty glass onto the bar. He licked his lips and turned to face Rumlow. “What are you doing here?” he all but growled.

The other man shrugged. “I was invited.”

“A mistake, I’m sure. Did you think you could get Y/N alone to break her heart some more? That you could smack her around? Sorry, but she’s not here.”

Rumlow frowned. “Don’t pretend you’re any better than me. We both know you don’t care for that girl any more than I do. We’re using her in our own ways. She just cooperates better with you.”

Later, Clint wished he hadn’t gotten quite so angry. One moment fury spiked through him. The next Rumlow was on the floor and Clint’s knuckles throbbed. Perhaps if he had been a little more clear headed, he would have remembered the incident better so he could relive it later. The room had gone silent and Clint cast a look around before striding out the door.

***

When he arrived at your apartment, you weren’t home yet. Honestly, he hadn’t expected you to be and didn’t know why he was even there. He let himself in with his key. He needed a drink and some time in the quiet to clear his head would be good for both of you. Sliding out of his jacket, he tossed it on the back of the couch. He poured a large glass from the bottle you kept around for him before grabbing an ice pack from the fridge.

After numbing his knuckles a bit, he threw the pack back in the freezer and snatched his glass from the counter. He sat on the sofa only to get quickly back to his feet. He was too keyed up to sit still. Instead, he started to roam through the apartment. A light in the hall caught his eye and he moved toward the open door of your studio.

He shouldn’t look. Even the thought had his gut churning, but he couldn’t seem to step away. Somehow he was convinced all the answers he needed were behind that door. He took a breath and pushed the door the rest of the way open.

His eyes went wide as he moved to the center of the room. He’d never seen your studio in such a state. Half-finished pieces mixed with completed works, photos and sketches hung on every wall. Black and white. Charcoal. Pencil. Splashes of color to break up the monotony. And in every image, on every surface, he saw himself reflected.

Not his face. No, that would be too obvious and completely not your style. Instead, there were places you went. The curve of a shoulder. The hint of a smirk. And hands. His hands were everywhere. Cradling your face. Clutching your waist. Caressing your body. His chest tightened as he sucked in a breath and moved in a slow circle.

And when his gaze fell on the doorway, there you were. Hands twisted together, a sheen of tears in your eyes as you gave him that cockeyed smile. The one that said you wanted him to reassure you. To tell you everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t. Not about this. This was his ruin. He moved his gaze from you to one of the photos on the wall. Your lips touching his as the two of you laughed.

“You love me.” His voice was little more than a whisper and he wished he didn’t sound so devastated by the revelation, but he supposed there was no help for that.

“What?” Your voice broke and he clenched his free hand to keep from reaching for you.

“I knew. I realize that now. I tried to ignore it, but it’s all right here in this room, isn’t it?”

“Clint.” The plea in your voice had him returning his eyes to you.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” And there was a plea in his as well.

A tear fell down your cheek. “I can’t.”

Clint closed his eyes. Forced himself to swallow down the elation and the heartbreak. This…this was no good for either of you. He’d been fooling himself to think otherwise. He looked at you one last time before nodding once and walking past you. Ignoring the heartbreaking call of his name, he placed his glass on the counter. After grabbing his jacket from the back of the couch, he was gone.

The slam of the door echoed through the apartment and what was left of your heart.


	22. Chapter 22

The thing about loving someone was the pain that so often came with it. You knew from the beginning that this agreement with Clint was a risky proposition. That there was the chance it would all go to hell and you’d be left picking up the pieces of your heart. What you didn’t realize was just how deep that pain would go. Your chest ached with the loss of him. This wasn’t heartbreak, this was pure devastation. He had become such a part of you that his absence was a physical thing you felt deep in your soul.

God, it hurt. You laid on the floor of your studio for hours and wept. The coolness of the wood beneath you seeped through your clothes and your skin grew tight with dried tears, but still you cried. Grieving for the loss of the man you loved and for the love you were so certain he’d felt for you even if only for a moment.

Eventually the tears stopped but you remained curled up on the floor not willing to move just yet. You ran your eyes around the room taking in the photos that lined the wall, the sketches you’d drawn, the paintings you’d created. You hadn’t been wrong. He loved you. The proof was all around you. And nowhere could it be seen more clearly than the photographs still in your computer.

You sat up with a sniff and ran the sleeve of your shirt over your face to wipe away some of the tears. You reached up and pulled your laptop from the counter where you’d sat it when you’d first entered the studio. After firing it up, you went immediately to your photos to scroll through them again. The images that had brought you such joy earlier now only served to hurt you more. You took a deep, stuttering breath, trying to center yourself.

You opened one of the images in your graphics program and, after making a couple of tweaks, sent it as an attachment to Steve. The email you sent with it was lengthy and detailed and perhaps a little rambly but he responded almost immediately. He loved every rambling thought you’d typed out.

This was it. This is what you had been missing. That central theme Steve wanted your show to have. Love. Loss. Him.

***

Clint woke the next afternoon with a dry mouth and throbbing head. He might have had a drink or five too many after returning home from your apartment. How had everything gone so colossally fucking wrong in such a short period of time? He’d taken the day off intending to spend it in bed with you. Well, your plan had been to do some prep work for Thanksgiving the next day, but that wasn’t what had been on his agenda at all. Shit. Thanksgiving. At least it was only supposed to be the two of you and Wanda. His girl wouldn’t give a shit what her old man whipped up for the holiday. If she even showed. She would probably be too pissed at him to even come.

And he deserved it. He knew he did. He should have stayed well the fuck away from Y/N and continued to admire you from afar. Instead, he’d just had to have a taste. He had just wanted to know for a moment what it would be like for you to be his. God, he was an idiot.

Natasha was right. This had been different from the beginning. Hell, if he was honest, he’d been in love with you before he ever had Loki write up the damn contract. But you were supposed to be stronger than him. Than all of this mess he was now in the middle of.

You weren’t supposed to fall in love with an old man like him. And as much as he wanted to toss all of his worries and concerns aside, he couldn’t. He already knew what would happen if he did. He’d become even more tangled up with you. Until he couldn’t function—couldn’t live—without you.

And then you’d realize that behind the success, behind the money, he was nothing. That deep down he was still that dirt poor soldier with nothing more than a good aim. And he wasn’t sure he could survive that look in your eye when it happened. That utter disappointment and regret. Not from you.

He swung his feet off the bed and sat up with a groan. He dropped his head into his hands and tugged at the strands of his hair. He’d lived his life the way he had for years to avoid this bone numbing ache that settled deep in the core of him. He sucked in a breath and released it in a sob. He was so, so broken without you. But if he let himself love you, let himself live the life he so desperately wanted, it would end him when you finally left.

***

Clint was more than a little surprised when Wanda showed up late the next morning. His head was buried in the fridge trying to decide what to make when her happy hello announced her arrival via the kitchen door. He straightened with a jerk, his eyes finding her immediately and taking in her happy expression.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” he said hesitantly. Surely, you had called her. Texted. Something. She was your best friend.

Wanda frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?” She looked around. “Where’s Y/N?”

Clint groaned and let his forehead fall against the fridge.

“What did you do?”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, otherwise not moving. “Who says I did anything? Maybe she did something.”

She placed her fists on her hips and stared him down, waiting for him to break, to admit what he’d done.

With a sigh, he opened the fridge and pulled out a beer before sitting at the table. “Things just didn’t work out, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay. Go fix it.” She stomped her foot and for just a moment, Clint had a flash of the girl she used to be.

“I’m sorry. I know she’s your friend, but there’s no reason that has to change.” He meant the words. He really did, but he also knew that there would be no more casual swims at his house or holiday dinners together.

“Why did you start this if you weren’t going to see it through? Why her?”

“Come on, Wanda. You know you can’t predict how a relationship is going to turn out. You just jump in and hope for the best. Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don’t.” He leaned back in his seat and ran his thumbnail along the edge of the label on his bottle.

She dropped into a chair across from him. “I’m not stupid, you know. I know you didn’t care about any of those women that you went out with. That’s why I thought this would be different. I thought maybe you were finally ready to give yourself a chance to be happy.”

Clint wasn’t surprised to hear that she’d figured him out a long time ago. She was always smarter than him anyway. He kept his eyes glued to the bottle in his hand.

“You are allowed to be happy, Dad. You know that, right?”

His gaze found hers but still, he said nothing.

After the silence stretched for too long, she sighed and got back to her feet. “As much as I love you, I’m not going to let my best friend spend the day alone. Especially when it’s your fault.”

He nodded to let her know he heard and watched her walk to the door.

She stopped in the doorway to look back at him. “By the way, you look like shit.” With that she left, slamming the door behind her.

***

“Y/N?” Wanda’s voice called surprising you. She had apparently let herself in with the key you’d given her. You hadn’t been expecting her to just show up.

“Back here,” you called back and returned to your project.

“What are you…” her voice trailed off as she stepped into the doorway. She sucked in a breath and the corner of your mouth kicked up in a smile. “You’ve been busy.”

You hummed in agreement but didn’t quit working.

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you asked in an attempt to dodge her question.

“Besides the fact that I know what happened? Well, sort of.” She stepped into the room and walked over to the large canvas you’d finished earlier. “If I’m not mistaken this is a hand crushing a heart made of love poems.”

You glanced at her. “Don’t you like it?”

She blinked at you and you grinned before turning back to your current piece.

She cleared her throat. “I don’t think that’s really the point here, Y/N/N.”

You didn’t respond as you kept painting.

Wanda stepped closer to you. “How long have you been working like this?”

“Since he left.” Your voice broke a little and you reached over to grab your coffee from the counter. A long swallow of the lukewarm brew and you leaned on the counter to look at your friend.

Her worried gaze ran over you taking in your paint spattered appearance. “And when was that?”

You scrunched your nose in thought before shaking your head. “When I came back from the photo lab.”

She tilted her head and her gaze sharpened. “Tuesday?”

You took another sip of the coffee and nodded.

“That was two days ago. Have you slept at all?”

You ran a hand down your face. Of course, you hadn’t slept. You were too afraid you’d see him in your dreams.

“Have you eaten?”

“Sure.” You’d had a bowl of cereal sometime the day before and enough coffee to keep you fueled for days.

Wanda plucked the paintbrush from your hand before pushing you toward the door. “Go get in the shower. I’ll make you something to eat.”

You wanted to argue, to tell her that you had work to do but she was right. You needed food and rest and you weren’t going to get either until you were clean. You stumbled into the shower and started to scrub rich, blue paint from your hands.

By the time Wanda appeared in your room ten minutes later, you were already curled up on your bed sound asleep.


	23. Chapter 23

The days that followed were filled with tears and work. So much work. You’d already completed your final projects for your classes and once your professors discovered you had a show at the 107, they were more than willing to release you from attending the last two weeks of the semester.

Your time was split between your studio and the gallery. Steve had already covered the windows so the two of you could start hanging and rearranging your work. Meanwhile you were still working on some last minute pieces which you would occasionally show up to the gallery with.

The opening was now a mere two days away and everything was in place. Steve and you had retired to his office after once last look around. He poured you a drink and handed it to you before taking a seat behind his desk.

“How are you?” he asked.

You frowned at the drink in you hand and shrugged. “Everything looks good. I’m a little nervous but I know I put forward my best. I—”

“I’m not talking about the show, Y/N.”

“Oh.” Steve had very tactfully not mentioned Clint once since Thanksgiving. You had been hoping he’d continue in that vein until roughly the end of time.

“I left you alone because I could see you using your work to process things, but the show’s ready. Your work is done. So how are you doing?” He tilted his head as he looked you over.

You sighed and leaned back in your seat. “He left me because I loved him too much even though I’m pretty sure he loved me too. He’s fucked up and aggravating and I miss him.” You gulped down the contents of your glass and sat it on the desk. “And I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be discussing this with you. He’s your friend.”

Steve gave a little shrug. “So are you. Besides, I like to think I’m a good enough friend I can tell Barton when he’s making a colossal mistake.”

That earned him a soft smile. “Thanks, Steve. I mean that.”

He nodded. “Go home, Y/N. Get some rest. Take care of yourself and I’ll see you Friday.”

***

“Busy,” Clint barked at the knock on his office door, expecting to be left alone after that.

The door opened and Natasha poked her head in with an arched brow and a frown. “Really?”

He cleared his throat and turned his attention to the paperwork on his desk. “I told Wade I wasn’t to be disturbed.”

“Good for you. I don’t give a shit.” She stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. He ignored her as she took one of the seats in front of his desk. He let the silence stretch. He had no desire for conversation. “Why are you being a dick?”

He glanced up at that. “Excuse me?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “You heard me. No one wants to come anywhere near you. I’ve got messages from clients and employees alike wondering what the hell is going on and I have no idea what to tell them.”

“I don’t answer to them. Or you.”

“What about Wanda? Do you answer to her because she’s as tired of it as the rest of us?”

He tossed his pen on his desk and leaned back in his chair. “She called you?”

Nat made a sound of agreement.

Clint sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better.”

“It seems to me that this wouldn’t be an issue if you just kept her. She was good for you.” She looked at her nails, purposely ignoring his eyes on her.

“You know why, Nat. It wouldn’t last. It never does.” He clenched his teeth in irritation with his best friend. He’d told her more than anyone. She should understand without making him talk about it.

“And this is based on your vast experience with healthy relationships?”

“All right, I get it. You think I should have stayed with her.” He just wanted this conversation to be over. He spent enough time thinking about Y/N without Nat bringing you up.

“I do, but that’s not the point.” She straightened in her seat, then leaned toward him. “Why is it that you insist in punishing yourself? Nothing that happened with Laura was your fault. She was a conniving bitch who thankfully represents a small minority of the women out there. Why do you keep letting her dictate your happiness?”

“It’s not about her. Not really.” He turned his chair so his back was to her as he looked out the window. “When I found out about everything…well, you know how I was. Peter and I were supposed to go camping for a week. Try out some prototypes. I canceled on him. He was a little disappointed but he didn’t mind. We rescheduled for another week.”

Clint cleared his throat. “But he knew the prototypes were important and needed to be tested so he decided to go up without me. He was old enough and the site was already reserved. He left me a note. I didn’t find it until after the accident. Until he…”

“Clint.” Her voice was soft and full of pain.

He shook his head. He didn’t deserve her sympathy. “I promised myself then that I would never allow myself to be broken like that again. I had to be there for Wanda.”

“Bullshit.”

He turned to face her. “What?”

“I mean, that was very touching and all, but it’s an excuse.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” He’d never told anyone what he’d just admitted to her and this was her response?

“I’m going to be honest. When you lost Peter so soon after what happened with Laura, I was worried. Really worried. I couldn’t see how you were going to pull yourself out of it. But you did it. And you raised a kickass kid in the process, but she’s an adult now, Clint. You can’t keep using her as a reason to not take the chance.”

Nat got to her feet and headed to the door. She paused with her hand on the handle. “If anyone is worth the chance it’s Y/N, and you know it.” With that she was gone.

He buried his face in his hands. He wasn’t wrong about this. Was he?

***

You sorted through the mail as you walked up to your apartment, frowning as you came across an envelope from a law firm. Odinsons Attorneys at Law. Why did that sound familiar?

Once you were in your apartment and had put your things away, you sat in a chair and opened the envelope. You unfolded the single sheet inside and quickly skimmed the letter. You sucked in a breath as you realized what this was. After taking a minute to calm yourself, you went back to the beginning and read it again. This time you went slowly making certain you understood what you were being told.

Without really thinking about it, you pulled out your phone and called Wanda. “Did you know about this?” you asked before she’d even finished saying hello.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Y/N. I know about a lot of things and not so much about others.”

You smiled in spite of yourself. “I got a letter from Clint’s lawyer.”

“What?”

You hummed. “The apartment is mine as long as I am in school. He’s also paying my tuition and having a monthly allowance placed into an account in my name. I’m supposed to make an appointment to meet with them and fill out some paperwork.”

“Holy shit, Y/N. He really does love you.”

Your heart twinged with a jolt of hope you quickly shut down. “Or he feels guilty because I’m your best friend.”

“Guilt is an apartment with his daughter and tuition. Your own place and a monthly allowance is pure love.”

You shook your head, amused at her insistence. “You know I can’t accept this, right?”

“The hell you can’t.”

“I feel like you shouldn’t be encouraging me to take your dad’s money.”

“Oh, sweetheart, take it all. Maybe he’ll come to his senses when he’s broke.”


	24. Chapter 24

Clint worked late Friday which was in itself unlike him. He usually left the office as early as possible to get a jump on the weekend. But as he had absolutely no plans save wallowing in self pity, he didn’t see the need to hurry home. He entered through the kitchen and tossed his jacket over the back of a chair. He rolled his sleeves up as he inventoried the contents of his fridge trying to decide what to eat. Nothing appealed to him so he grabbed a beer before shutting the door.

As he twisted the cap off and threw it in the trash, a piece of paper on the bar caught his attention. It was an invitation to your show. Where the hell had that come from? Lord knows he’d seen enough of them lately, but he was certain he hadn’t brought any of them home. It seemed as though everyone that knew the two of you was making it their business to get him to the show. That wasn’t a good idea. He knew that much at least.

He traced his fingers over the name of your show written in brilliant blue painter’s strokes. _Him_. Yeah, going to your show wouldn’t be a good idea at all. It would only cause unnecessary pain for both of you.

“You should go.”

Clint swallowed his mouthful of beer and turned to find Wanda standing in the doorway behind him. He frowned in question, not that he minded her being there, he just hadn’t been expecting her.

“The shoes I wanted to wear were here.” She closed the distance between them and picked up the postcard to look it over. “And quit trying to ignore me. You should go to the show.”

He shook his head as he turned away from her. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You know why not.” He slammed the bottle on the counter. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Didn’t want her pushing him. Prodding him.

Wanda hummed in thought. “Because you love her, you mean?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“She loves you, too, you know.”

His shoulders slumped and he raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I know.”

“Then what is the problem? You are so frustrating. Just forget whatever shit you’ve convinced yourself of and go get the girl.” He glanced over to find Wanda scowling with her arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s not that simple, sweetheart. Feelings change. Someday she’ll realize I’m not what she wants and she’ll find someone else. I don’t think I could survive that. Not with her.” It was more honestly than he’d been prepared to face that day, but he hoped it would get his daughter to back off. To give him a break and let him grieve. He should have known better.

“So, you’ll be fine when she finds someone else and starts dating? Because that’s what will happen. You know that, right?” Her tone was so matter-of-fact, so serious that Clint wondered briefly if there was already someone on the horizon.

And God did that hurt. The thought that she’d soon be smiling for someone else. Laying in someone else’s arms. “You’re just not going to cut your old man any slack, are you?”

“I never do when you’re being stupid,” was the immediate response.

He shook his head and huffed a laugh. “God, kid.”

She placed the postcard on the counter and pushed it in front of him. “Go. Tell her you love her. Don’t think about it, just do it. If losing Peter taught us anything, it’s to not waste the time we have.”

Clint closed his eyes and swallowed past the lump in his throat. Tears burned behind his lids.

Wanda placed a hand on his back. “He would want you to be happy. I want you to be happy. So if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. Or do it for her. For some stupid reason, she loves you.”

He straightened and pulled her into a side hug, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “How did you get to be such an incredible person?”

“Well, I have a pretty great dad.” They hugged for a moment longer before she pushed him away. “Go, so you can quit being a miserable bastard.”

Without another thought, Clint was out the door. He put on his helmet and climbed on his bike. Much sooner than he should have, he arrived at the gallery. He parked on the sidewalk on the side of the building and took of his helmet. He pushed his hands through his hair trying to put it in some sort of order, but was certain he failed miserably. After straightening his clothes, he strode inside. His eyes scanned the room searching for you.

After his third pass over the crowd, Clint was beginning to get anxious. Where the hell were you?

“She’s not here,” a voice said from beside him.

Clint turned to Steve with a frown. “What do you mean she’s not here? This is her dream.”

Steve pursed his lips. “That’s what I told her. She told me she found a new dream, but she lost it and couldn’t stand to be surrounded by the reminders.”

 _Fuck_. He’d done that to her, kept her from enjoying the night when she should be on top of the world. Damn it. He ran a hand through his hair again as he tried to figure out a way to fix this. “You’ve got to help me, Steve.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I love her and I need her back.”

His friend looked at him for a long time, his anger evident. Finally, Steve glanced away. “I’ll think about it. Get a drink. Enjoy the art. It’s brilliant.” And with that, he turned his back and strode away.

***

You returned to the gallery twenty minutes after the show was supposed to have ended. A glance through the windows as you walked by showed a mostly empty gallery. Steve stood at a podium flipping through a book as the caterers cleared away the last of the food.

The door was locked when you tugged on it and the noise brought Steve’s head up. He smiled and hurried over to let you in. “There you are.”

“So, what do you think? How did it go?” Your stomach rolled with nerves.

His smile widened. “You sold out. That’s how it went.”

“What?” Surely, you hadn’t heard him correctly.

“Every piece. I even have offers on the pieces you reserved should you change your mind and decide to sell.”

You blinked as you tried to process what he’d just told you. You’d not only made a lot of money, you’d successfully launched your career as a professional artist. And you supposed you could sell the pieces you’d held for yourself. It’s was mostly photography anyway. It wasn’t as if you didn’t still have a copy on your computer. You dropped into one of the chairs sitting along the wall. “I can’t…thank you for this, Steve.”

“You did the work, Y/N. I just gave you a place to show it off and sent out the invitations.”

“You believed in me. That was enough.”

He sat in the chair beside you. “Not to bring down the room, but you should know Clint came by.”

Your chest suddenly felt tight. “He did?”

Steve nodded. “I think it’s safe to say he wasn’t here for the art.”

You ran a hand down your face. “This has been a very surreal night. What did he say?”

“He asked for my help.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I told him I’d think about it.” Steve shifted in the chair. “He seemed pretty taken with your work. Almost in awe.”

You chuckled a little at that. “Well, to be fair he is the _him_ in question.”

“He is also one of the ones that made an offer on a reserved piece.”

He handed you a slip of paper and you gasped at the amount written on it. It was for one of the largest pieces in the show. A close up of Clint’s paint covered hands on your waist in black and white with real paint for accent. It was your favorite and apparently Clint’s too if the figure in your hand was anything to go by.

“But why would he offer so much? Why would he even want it?”

“Because these hands miss your body.”

You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped at the sound of the familiar voice.

Steve cleared his throat as he stood and placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll be in the back if you need me.”

Your gaze followed him until he passed by Clint. It didn’t hurt as much to see him as you thought it would. Perhaps that was because the pain was being tempered by the hope you couldn’t keep from feeling. There were so many things you wanted to say but you couldn’t seem to get any of it out.

He stepped toward you and you ran your gaze over him. He was in your favorite outfit and you wondered if he’d done it on purpose. Probably not, but you still intended to enjoy the view as long as he was here. Your tongue darted out to moisten your lips.

Clint took another step. “ _I_ miss your body.” He held his hands out to the side as if trying to convince you he was harmless when you knew damn well he was anything but. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

He was within touching distance when he came to a stop and put his hands in his pockets. He rocked on his feet. “And I love you.”

Your eyes which had been traveling the length of him again, jerked up to meet his. “What?” A part of you had known that he loved you, the rest of you had hoped, but you never thought you’d hear him admit to it.

He gave you that lopsided smile. “The irony, right? I’m really hoping I haven’t fucked this up completely, Y/N.”

Moisture welled in your eyes, but you willed it not to fall. You stood and ran your hands over your dress. “How do I know you won’t do it again, Clint?”

He started to speak and you held up a hand to cut him off.

“I need to know this is a forever thing for you because I am head over heels for you, Clint Barton. And while the past couple of weeks have been good for my art, they’ve been brutal on my heart. I’m not sure it will survive another beating like that.” You lost the fight with the tears and a couple slipped down your cheeks.

Clint’s hands immediately cradled your face. “Baby, I am terrified that you are going to toss me aside someday and destroy me completely, but a minute with you in my arms would make it worth it. If you’ll let me, I will love you every second for the rest of our lives. You are everything and I’m sorry I ever made you feel less than that.”

You pressed your lips to his in a soft, sweet kiss full of promise. When you pulled back, you smiled at him. “Well, you’ve done it now, Barton. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”


	25. The Epilogue

_Six months later_

One week after the end of the semester, Clint rented a plane large enough for the two of you and several of your closest friends. You flew to a small island in the Caribbean and exchanged vows on the beach two days later as the sun set in the background. Besides the main cabana where you and Clint stayed, there were several smaller huts scattered around. So, even though everyone stayed for another week, you really only saw them when you wanted to.

Still, Clint was happy to kick them off the island when the week was up. He waited until the two of you were alone to tell you that he’d purchased the island several years ago and had just never really gotten around to using it. A whole island. Yep, that was your husband. The best part of the confession was when he told you that he was taking an extended leave from work so the two of you could honeymoon as long as you wished.

It was now two weeks later and you weren’t planning on heading home anytime soon. The two of you were on the beach in front of your cabana. Clint was laying on one of the chairs in only his trunks and sunglasses. Drops of water dotted his skin from the quick dip he’d just taken in the ocean. You traced your tongue along your lip as you ran your eyes over him. Lifting your camera, you snapped several quick pictures.

Steve had invited you to have another show at the gallery. And as eager as you were to take him up on the offer, you weren’t rushing yourself this time. You didn’t have anything to prove this time and you intended to spend your time with your new husband. Not holed up in a studio. That didn’t keep you from taking as many pictures as possible so you could use them later. You moved around Clint while you took several more pictures.

“Enough with the photos. Come here and lay down with me,” Clint invited.

You smiled at him though you weren’t even sure if his eyes were open behind the reflective lenses of his sunglasses. “Just a few more.”

***

Clint grinned and shook his head before letting his eyes slip closed once more. Being here with you was closer to heaven than he ever thought he’d get. Once the two of you reunited, he was quick to secure his claim on you. He proposed on New Year’s Eve and would have married you the next day if he hadn’t wanted everything to be perfect for you.

But the best part was the two of you together with no schedules, no interruptions. He handed Hawkeye over to Nat for the summer and was leaving it up to you to say when it was time to go home. Another couple of weeks and he’d have to fly Wanda down for a few days. Both of you were missing her already.

Maybe if—

Water splashed over him and he sucked in a breath in surprise. His eyes shot open to find you standing nearby holding the bucket you used to rinse the sand off your feet before going into the house. At least it wasn’t cold, he guessed. Your eyes were wide as you took a step back from him and he could tell you were trying to hide your amusement.

“So that’s how it is.” He scrambled to his feet and you squealed and turned to run down the beach. As if you could possibly outrun him. Several long strides later, he caught up to you and wrapped his arms around you to pull you into him. He spun you in a circle before his fingers found your ticklish spot.

You squealed and kicked your legs. “Stop. Have mercy on the pregnant lady.”

Clint froze instantly but only for a moment. His heart raced and it was suddenly hard to breathe. Had you just… He made sure you had your footing then turned you to face him. He cupped one hand on the side of your face and leaned forward to look in your eyes. “What did you say?”

You grinned then and the force of it sent a jolt straight through him. “I’m pregnant.”

He swept you up in his arms again as his lips slammed into yours. Two minutes ago, he would have sworn life with you couldn’t be any more perfect.

He was so, so glad to be wrong.


End file.
